


Smriti

by Kiss_Shining



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe – Canon Divergence, Domination, Dramatic Irony, Eventual Happy Ending, Guess I'll find out when the smut comes, Help, Hurt/Comfort, I can't seem to write properly, Light politics, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Behavior, Saiyan Culture, Sexual Content, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Temporary Character Death, This may be classified as squick but I dunno, Time Travel, Unbeta-ed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2020-10-04 08:10:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20467823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiss_Shining/pseuds/Kiss_Shining
Summary: Goku lifted a hand in greeting. “Hey, Vegeta!”Vegeta snarled, strode up to where he stood, and pushed his shoulder with enough force to make Goku stumble back.“Such insolence. Who are you to talk to me with such disrespect?"“Oh right, you don’t know me in this time,” Goku muttered to himself, slightly unnerved by Vegeta's hostility. He recovered his footing in the next heartbeat, grinning. “Well, that’s fine! I’m Son Goku, nice to meet ya.”On Vegeta's behalf, Goku decides to make a trip into the distant past with Bulma’s help. He primarily goes to prevent the destruction of his home planet, but he gets caught up due to a series of unforeseen occurrences as well as his newfound relationship with Vegeta.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If GT cheated on DBZ, and GT and Super had an ugly ass baby, that’s what this would be. As such, it doesn’t properly cohere to any story. Please don’t expect it to.
> 
> It should be obvious, but this is literally nothing more than an introductory chapter. I'd call it a prologue, but I don't think it fits, so. Intro chapter it is. I'd like to put some more meat on this, but I'm afraid I might go overboard...
> 
> Updates will be sporadic, but this will never be abandoned.
> 
> OOC tag can be added if needed.

“Goku, you just came back home! You can’t leave _now_.”

Chichi’s voice was shrill and loud in his ears, and Goku winced. Her voice probably carried all the way back to East City—not that he blamed her. He felt twice as bad as she must have, even more so since he was still stuck in the form of a child. She often complained that he was doing this to spite her, but he really wasn’t. At least, not intentionally. But he really did have to go—he couldn’t stay in this world any longer, even if he wanted to. He probably had just enough time to visit Master Roshi and Krillin one last time, maybe drop by hell to see Piccolo.

“I have to, Chichi. I promise I’ll come back to visit soon, but…” He glanced at the dragon beside him. Shen Long was pretty impatient, and he really didn’t want to push his luck, not if he wanted to still see the last of his friends before he fully became one with the dragon balls.

“But you beat Syn Shen Long! So why?” She heaved, and she looked so haggard that Goku reached out towards her. But then he remembered that she would know the truth if he ever did that; his fingers would phase right through her soft skin, and then she really would break down. He couldn’t bear to see her like that. Instead, he gave her the most he could: a warm grin and a note of optimism. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing at all.

“I’ll be back sooner than you know it,” he said, “and if I’m not, then we can meet after we die. I’m sure that King Yama won’t mind making an exception or two; he’s a real swell guy. So don’t look like that, okay?”

She sniffled, mutely nodding, and Goku’s shoulders slowly dropped. He finally got her to calm down, and she was even smiling a little, albeit resignedly. Still, it was a better last memory than seeing her cheeks flushed with grief and her eyes blotched from tears. He was going to jump on Shen Long’s back, but he paused when Vegeta stepped forward, his face oddly passive considering that he had just fought alongside Goku and was the only one who knew the truth. And seeing that Goku gave Vegeta the remainder of his life force, he thought that he would have said _something_ to him. But then again, that was just like Vegeta to have a cool exterior even to the end.

“I fused with Kakarot,” he said, and his gaze was directed to Shen Long and him alone, “and I aided in the restoration of the dragon balls. Surely I can have one last request as well?”

Shen Long was quiet for a long time, but he conceded. He dipped his head.

“Indeed. You have played a significant part in the restoration of the dragon balls,” he acknowledged, and his eyes flashed. “I will grant you one wish. Speak.”

“I want you to give Kakarot one more day on Earth,” he said, and everyone turned towards him, holding their breaths. “At the very least, his friends and family should be able to stay with him for one more night before he selfishly leaves on his own again.”

Bulma shot him a look, but Vegeta was unperturbed, keeping his head high. And Goku was surprised. He hadn’t expected Vegeta to go out on a limb like that—to grant him one more day of life. It was something precious and priceless and…it was probably Vegeta’s way of paying back for giving him the little that he had left. Goku closed his eyes, waiting for Shen Long’s response. He wasn’t sure what he would do if this chance was taken from him like that, no matter how briefly it dangled before his eyes.

To his relief, the eternal dragon had enough mercy to purify the world several times over.

“It shall be done.” Shen Long rumbled, and Goku’s body began to become brighter and brighter. He wasn’t just a spirit that was held together by Shen Long’s mercy, teetering between the Other World and there; he was actually real. His heart didn’t beat, but he started to feel warm, whole. It was as if he was being kept alive through the ki alone, and he felt amazing. He flexed his muscles, and he felt them tense, just like they did whenever he was finished with a good workout.

“You have twenty-four hours as promised. Afterwards, we must go,” Shen Long said, and Goku nodded.

“Yeah. Thanks for everything, Shen Long.”

The dragon remained in the sky, twirling around the clouds, and Bulma immediately smacked Vegeta lightly across his shoulder.

“You can’t just _do_ that,” she hissed, seething at him, and Vegeta glared in return. “This whole thing happened in the first place because we kept asking for unnecessary wishes. If something happens to us, I’m holding you personally responsible for it.”

“Well I, for one, am grateful,” Chichi declared, and she seemed a lot more cheerful than she had been for the entirety of the time that Goku came back. “Goku just loves to run away and train, and I’m sure that when he leaves this time, he’ll come back when I’m old and grey. If the world ends because of one little harmless wish like that, then so be it. I’m just happy to stay with my husband again.” She nodded to herself, sure of her answer, and then turned towards Bulma, daring her to challenge her on it.

But Bulma didn’t. All of her anger seeped away and soaked into the ground, and she let out an exhausted laugh, and Chichi smiled. They came to some sort of understanding, and Goku felt a tad bit guilty. Had it really been so hard on everyone when he left? It really wasn’t that long, maybe five or ten years at most. With Chichi, she never seemed to like when he left, but then again, she didn’t like Gohan fighting either. He figured that she just wanted him to stay sedentary, and that wasn’t really his lifestyle. But for Bulma, Trunks, Pan, Gohan, Goten, and even Videl to vehemently agree with her choice? Well then, he must be doing something wrong. If they want him to stay for one more day, he would be more than happy to take it. Shen Long had already granted energy to him.

Immediately, Bulma suggested that they all celebrate for saving the day—which meant food for the road, and lots of it—and Goku jumped at the opportunity, even suggesting to invite anyone else they liked. They flew back to their respective houses to get ready, excitedly talking among themselves as if the last few hours never happened. Goku began to chase after Goten to do the same, but he was stopped by a meek hold on his wrist. Pan was staring at the ground.

“Grandpa,” she started, and her voice wavered so much that Goku felt cumbersome guilt wash over him, “You’re not with us anymore, are you?”

“What do you mean? Of course I am,” Goku said, and he curled his fingers around her hand, giving it a small squeeze. “See?”

“That’s only because Uncle Vegeta wished you back to life for a day,” she retorted, and her face crumpled when he took too sharp a breath. “I’m right, aren’t I.”

“Ah, well…” his eyes flickered to Goten and his wife’s retreating form, almost wishing they were there to help him with this, and they couldn’t. Their aide would mean that they would have to know. But he couldn’t take it on himself; he just wasn’t good with this kind of stuff. What was he to say? _Be strong_? _Don’t worry about me, I’m fine_? _I made this decision myself and I don’t regret anything_? All of it was true, but it all sounded so whimsical and flippant, and he knew that she cared about him so much. And he cared about her too. She was, after all, his one and only fiery granddaughter. He couldn’t possibly hurt her feelings like that.

Thankfully, she didn’t seem to expect an answer. After another moment, she squeezed his hand back, finally lifting her head and smiling at him so hard it ached. Her eyes shone, but not a single tear fell down, and Goku couldn’t help but feel a wave of approval washing over him. She may not have been the strongest Saiyan in the world, but she had something else that just as valuable. She would be an amazing fighter and woman when she finally came of age. It was a shame that he wouldn’t be there to witness it.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” she said, and she released him, twirling around in the air. “On one condition. You’ve got to teach me how to be a Super Saiyan before you leave.”

“Sure,” he agreed without a second thought, and she squealed and leapt towards him, rubbing her cheek against his. With a chuckle, he wrapped his arms around her torso, leaning into her neck. Her body radiated under his touch, maybe because of the residuals of her own fights with the other dragons, and she was much warmer than he was, despite him fighting the most. He realized then that although he was temporarily alive, it was only a pale imitation from Shen Long’s energy. Still, it was more than he would have hadn’t Vegeta wished to bring him back.

Right, Vegeta. Goku owed him a favor now, didn’t he. And he didn’t have much time either. There wasn’t anything in this world that could triumph more time on Earth, not anything that didn’t warrant Shen Long’s help. And he was already on borrowed time, so he couldn’t possibly ask for anything more. But at the same time, he couldn’t go into the Other World without at least doing _something_ for him. It just didn’t sit right with him.

Caught up in her excitement for her impromptu training, Pan was blissfully unaware of Goku’s concerns. With a delighted giggle, she grabbed his hand and flew and fast as she could towards Capsule Corp. She was more than eager to reunite with her parents and friends, and he pushed his momentary concerns into the back of his mind. He could think about what to do for him later. It was best if he enjoyed what he had here and now.

And it wasn’t like thinking was ever his forte anyhow.

* * *

Except…three hours after the party, lying next to his sleeping wife, that was exactly what he found himself doing.

Tossing and turning, he thought about every memory he shared with Vegeta. He thought about all of his family members and his friends, but Vegeta lingered on his mind a bit longer than he would have liked. It wasn’t as if Goku disliked him; if anything, Goku thought very highly of Vegeta, whether he realized it or not—and that was debatable considering Vegeta’s past insecurities about keeping up with him; he still hadn’t forgotten about how frustrated Vegeta was when they fought against Janemba together—but Vegeta was usually nothing more than a passing feeling in his chest, same as Gohan or Krillin was. It was never quite so burdensome like this.

Forgoing sleep, Goku slowly unwrapped the covers from his waist, tucking it back under Chichi’s neck, and he slid down to their bare floor, leaning right up against the side of the bed. With his wife’s snores as his melody, he began to indulge in his trip into the past, how he met all of his friends and how all of them found happiness except Vegeta.

Bulma, Yamcha, Oolong, Tenshinhan, and Piccolo all softened with time due to one positive influence or another. But Vegeta hadn’t softened like the rest of them. He was broken with time, having lost everything to a monster who had no qualms about killing those weaker than him. To make matters worse, he was forced to build his bridges from the ground up on the same planet that was supposed to have been destroyed, no doubt another sign of failure in his mind. And yet he still gave everything he had to fight with Goku, to protect what Goku thought was important.

He still remembered when he fought Cooler after he resurrected as a machine by the Big Gete Star—Gohan was captured, Piccolo had left him to search for Gohan, and everyone else couldn’t hold their own—and Vegeta had appeared out of nowhere, bringing with him a new tide that Goku gladly rode on. And when they were close to the end, he still hadn’t gave up, making one last attempt to turning things around. Even now, Vegeta’s rebellious bite occasionally resonated in his chest, propelling Goku to greater heights.

“_Is there any such thing as impossible for us_?”

He still remembered when the two of them preformed fusion for the first time in the Other World. He hadn’t thought that Vegeta would have ever gave up his life for anyone, but he had, and he was even more surprised when he fought alongside him—protected him—against Janemba’s final blow. Saying that he was the only one who could defeat him, saying that Goku was his to do with as he pleased, and chastising him for letting his guard down. There was a certain type of firm acceptance he held, and it was that same feeling that made him disregard himself for the greater good. It was a testimony to how much he changed from when they first met; the Vegeta he once knew would have let the entire world perish before he ever gave even an iota of his pride away.

He still remembered when the two of them reunited on Earth, and Vegeta had been significantly humbled and soured, witnessing Goku’s new ascension to Super Saiyan Three. In his hearts of hearts, Vegeta must have known that he couldn’t have defeated Buu alone, not even if he was forced to, and a little reminder about his newly acquired family was more than enough to pull him over the edge. He had acquiesced to the Potara fusion, and he acquiesced to Goku’s strength. It was when Vegeta firmly told him to do it right because “_only you can defeat that thing, Kakarot_,” and when, afterwards, he was immobilized and was ready for revisiting the harsh afterlife that Goku realized _how much_ Vegeta had acquiesced to what he thought was his presumed position, and his bittersweet smile at the end of the Tournament fortified it. If Goku was honest, he would have thought that Vegeta would have complained or something, maybe even gave him a sardonic comment or two, but he only stared down at the ground with a poignant smile that looked much more like a grimace. Goku had left with Uub, and Vegeta, while he seemed to still train, had long since stopped pursing Goku’s strength, probably coming to the erroneous conclusion that he couldn’t catch up to him anymore.

And then there was their last battle together, side by side as Super Saiyan Four, at their most deadly, and at their most carnal. Which is probably why he felt a jolt of something when Vegeta _volunteered_ to fuse. Because it was no longer a matter of Goku persuading him; it was a matter of Vegeta offering all of himself for Goku. And if not Goku, then Earth and his family and friends, and that was just as appealing. He couldn’t have helped the smirk that had grown on his face when he had thought about it, and he couldn’t have helped his eagerness. For some reason, he had wanted to enjoy that fusion as if it was his last breath, and maybe that’s what did them in the first place. But even so, he wouldn’t have taken anything back for it, not even his own life.

Which led Goku back to his original dilemma: what could he possibly do for Vegeta?

Actually, there_ was_ something he could do for him. Before he had left to train Uub, Goku had once asked Vegeta if there was one thing that he wanted to get if he could, and Vegeta had initially brushed him off.

“_There’s nothing worth my time on this puny planet_,” he had said, snorting, but Goku had pressed it a bit harder.

“_No way, there’s gotta be something. It can be something small, like I dunno…a year’s worth of food or something_.”

“_Only you would think of something so ridiculous, Kakarot_.”

“_It’s not ridiculous at all! I love Chichi’s cooking, but she doesn’t like to feed me sometimes…you know how awesome it’d be to be able to have as much food as I wanted for a whole year? Man, just thinking about it gets me pumped up_.” He had grinned, and Vegeta had given his own little smirk until he followed up with, “_But you still haven’t told me something that you’d want. It can even be something you had in the past_. _C’mon, just pick something_.”

Vegeta was unnaturally still for a long moment before he relaxed and sighed. “…_I suppose getting my planet back would be an excellent start_.”

He had sounded so forlorn that Goku wondered what it would have been like if Planet Vegeta was still around. Sure, _he_ didn’t have any connections to it, but if it was so important to Vegeta…that would be like if Grandpa Gohan…if he hadn’t been killed by Goku’s hand and instead was killed by a total stranger, and if that stranger had taken over the entire planet, then maybe he too would have went cold. Maybe he would have been bloodthirsty like Vegeta was. Maybe he would have been a opportunistic jerk like his brother.

But if Trunks had taught him anything, it was that the future could always turn out differently than expected depending on the circumstances. Because Future Trunks had meddled in their world, Goku hadn’t died from a heart disease, Gohan hadn’t lost his arm, and everyone else survived. And even more intriguingly, one of the infamous androids sent to exterminate humanity had instead settled down and had a child.

Just like that, perhaps if someone had come from the future when Planet Vegeta was still alive…maybe things could have turned out for the better. Maybe they could have been nicer people. Maybe they would have helped others instead of trying to tear them down. If Vegeta was stronger than Goku when they had first met, and his father was stronger than Vegeta, then there was a chance that with just a bit more training, they could have become a formidable foe against Frieza. If they didn’t manage to kill him, at the very least, he would have been severely wounded. That would have been a battle worth watching.

If there was someone who could have properly guided Vegeta when he was a child, then he would have been a completely different person. With the right type of training, Vegeta could have easily been the strongest warrior in the universe; of this, Goku had no doubt. When Vegeta was diligently aiming to surpass him, Goku had noticed that Vegeta’s potential was almost limitless; whatever he set his mind to do, he could have done it. If he had truly wanted to, if he had thought himself capable of it, then he could have even mastered the Super Saiyan Three transformation.

The more he thought about how much Vegeta would grow if someone had guided him—and Goku always wanted to teach Vegeta a thing or two about his moves from before—the more eager he became about the idea. He could save Planet Vegeta and make Vegeta stronger at the same time, which would result in potentially having a sparring partner in the near future. Even though he probably wouldn’t be able to stay on Earth anymore…but he knew that it probably would come to that either way.

He would pay Bulma a little visit in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite the bumps in the road, Goku travels into the past. But considering all that he learned from King Kai, it was different than what he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going to be frank. Besides the fact that this is a time travel fanfic, I really don’t see why this is getting so much feedback? Not that I’m ungrateful, but it makes me really nervous tbh. I’m literally doing nothing differently than what I’ve always been doing before, and it’s kind of jarring? I mean, if it’s just that, then cool, I love time travel fanfics as much as the next person. 
> 
> Also, I know I said that “I hope this meets your expectations” in my responses, but considering I don’t even know what my readers’ expectations even are for this story, well. It’s hard to meet an unknown value, and I’m not going to stress myself out extrapolating what that might be. So fair warning, I guess. 
> 
> I did such a good job at not writing too much and keeping it curbed down that I was excited to write another chapter. So I wrote one more chapter closer to Goku and Vegeta re-meeting lol. (Which is the next chapter. Hopefully it’ll go as well on paper as it did in my head.) 
> 
> Anyways. Welcome to the second chapter.

Maybe it was wishful thinking to believe that everything would have gone perfectly well. But Goku was a dreamer, and he wouldn’t stop until he got the results he wanted. Either that, or he’d die trying.

Bright and early this morning, he had woken up, showered, devoured the fridge, left a really nice note to Chichi apologizing in advance for the trouble—he already knew that she’d pull her hair out in frustration when she woke up, and he quietly dreaded the moment that she’d see him again—and then flew to Capsule Corp to ask Bulma about possibly making a time machine for him. He could have just teleported there; it would have been much faster and a lot less hassle, but he knew that Bulma was really cranky in the mornings and he really wanted her to get this done as soon as possible. She wouldn’t be willing to budge an inch for him if she was in a foul mood.

He got there at a good time alright. He even got a full course meal, courtesy of Mrs. Briefs herself. And he got to talk to Bulma, who was already feverishly working on a project in her lab. But that was where it ended.

“I’m sorry to say this, but there’s no way that I can make a time machine that fast.” She stabbed out the bud of her cigarette in the ashtray next to her and reached for a stack of papers on her desk, quickly flipping through them. “And aren’t you supposed to be leaving with Shen Long today? What do you need a time machine for?”

“I want to go back to my home planet,” Goku said, and Bulma frowned. “Back to Planet Vegeta.”

“All of a sudden?”

“Isn’t now a better time than any?”

“Oh, Goku…” She sighed, holding a hand to her forehead. “You always were so impulsive. Tell you what, I can’t build one right now, but if all you need is a time machine, then you can have the old one.”

His eyes brightened. “Really?! Thanks, Bulma.”

“Yes, yes, now leave me alone for a while and I’ll call you when I’m ready.” She dug around her pocket and pulled out a small, round, black pager, holding it out towards him. “Take this with you. I usually keep it for Trunks, but he’s going to be staying home today. It’ll vibrate when I’m ready for you to help me out.” He took it gleefully, relief lightening the small load on his shoulders. Maybe he didn’t have anything to worry about after all.

Before he left, he took one last glance at Capsule Corp—at Vegeta’s window—and teleported to Gohan’s house. He didn’t have to wait very long before he was tackled by an enthusiastic Pan.

“You’re up pretty early.”

“Of course I am! I’ve been waiting for this moment forever.” Urgently, she tugged on him, the giggle dying down until she was pouting, clearly upset that he wasn’t moving fast enough for her tastes. “Now what are you waiting for, grandpa? Let’s go already.”

Humming, Goku placed two fingers on his forehead and thought. Originally, he had an idea to train her in the mountains or in the forests. It was where he first trained Uub a few years ago. But now that he was working under extreme time constraints, an easygoing approach probably wouldn’t work. Even worse, her impatience was a double-edged sword; Pan tended to catch on quickly, but she was just as quick to give up if she became frustrated. And with something like this, it took time, effort, and a tremendous amount of diligence. Unless he went into the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, the gravity on Earth wouldn’t be enough for Pan to master the Super Saiyan transformation. And he _did_ need to go to King Kai’s to ask him about Planet Vegeta and all…

He cracked open an eye.

“Hey, you wanna try something different?”

“_Yes_ grandpa, but can we—”

He teleported them both to King Kai’s newly restored planet before she could finish, and when she finally caught her breath, she began to simmer to a slow boil. Feeling more than a bit responsible, Goku reached up and patted her head, rubbing his fingers through her bangs.

“Sorry about that.”

“A little warning would have been nice,” she grumbled, but her intrigue for her surroundings quelled her irritation, and she stared down at the floor of clouds below her in wonder. But very quickly, she found that the gravity on King Kai’s small planet was nothing like she had ever experienced before. It was fortunate that most of the planets they traveled to were similar to Earth, or else Pan may not have fared well. Of course Goku would have protected her if she really couldn’t take care of herself, but if something happened—if an enemy like Baby had appeared—then she would have been nearly defenseless. It was hard enough to defeat him without having the extra burden of protecting someone else.

“First, you’re going to get used to the gravity here,” he said, and she grunted, trying her best to stand on her two feet and failing miserably, stumbling back onto her knees. “Once you get used to it, we’ll do some basic sparring.”

“And t-this is supposed to teach me how to become a Super Saiyan?”

“Yep!” He retreated into King Kai’s house and gave her a cheerful wave. “When you’re done doing fifteen laps, call for me, alright?”

“But—”

“You’ll be fine,” he said. “If I could do it, then so can you. I promise.” Much to her dismay, he turned right back around and left her outside by herself, but he knew that she would be able to handle it. Pan was the youngest Saiyan to fly three times around Earth, after all.

For the better part of the morning into the afternoon, Goku prodded a reluctant King Kai all about Planet Vegeta, its history, its traditions—and of course, its food; that was definitely the most important thing of all—and anything else that came to mind, which really wasn’t much. He didn’t know the right questions to ask, curious as he might have been, and he often found himself simply accepting whatever information was fed to him.

So he ended up learning three things: Planet Vegeta was a dry, red planet with ten times the gravity of Earth, it had two moons, and…the Saiyans who originally dwelled there were savages that took land from the Tuffles. That was it. He still didn’t know anything about its culture, its history—besides the rudimentary facts of what led them to gaining Planet Vegeta in the first place, which was outdated at best and biased at worst if what Vegeta had said was correct—or anything else that could even be remotely useful to him on his journey.

“You sure don’t know a whole lot, do you,” Goku said, and he scrunched his nose. “Aren’t you supposed to be a god? Isn’t it your job to watch planets and stuff?”

“You’re very rude,” King Kai sniffed, indignant. “I _do_ watch over all the planets in the universe. It’s not my job to take notes on every little detail about them. But if you want to learn more about Planet Vegeta so much, then why don’t I show you?”

He led Goku to the very edge of his planet, in the same spot that he used to look into the future, the past, and space, and Goku followed him, curious. King Kai’s antennas twitched, and suddenly, they sharply shifted to the left. Feeling that the time was right, Goku placed his hand on King Kai’s back, and he closed his eyes.

A long time ago, Krillin and Yamcha told him how horrible Planet Vegeta was. They wanted to help fight the Saiyans, and they had demanded that Mr. Popo would take them back in time for a taste. They went inside of the Pendulum Room and traversed about one-hundred years into the past, and when they came out, they had very well learned not to underestimate their opponents.

“_They were way worse than any enemy I’ve fought before_,” Krillin had warily reminisced, and he didn’t bother to stick his nose out again, not after Raditz, and definitely not after the Pendulum Room. “_It’s just—they were way too strong, Goku! I’m sure that not even you could defeat them. They were awful, ruthless beasts. You don’t want to know what they did to poor Chaotzu_…”

And now, looking at the same past that they did, experiencing almost the same things that they went through several decades later, even though he was much stronger than before, Goku could honestly say that he couldn’t blame any of them for feeling that way. To say that the Saiyans were ruthless would be putting it lightly. But that was only under Frieza’s rule. That was only when they had lost their original planet, relocated to another planet, and gained possession of that one, only to be subjugated by the most horrendous tyrant in the universe.

Still. The picture it painted wasn’t the prettiest, and even though he had wanted to learn all that he could about his heritage, he found himself slowly re-growing distasteful for what he was. He had never really accepted it—he thought of himself as an Earthling through and through—but he never vehemently denied it either. It was something that he just happened to have, like the tail on his back or the spikes on his head. But that…he didn’t want to accept _that_. He didn’t want to help _that_.

He couldn’t ignore them either. He had promised himself that he would do this for Vegeta. And he never broke a promise.

So after he witnessed their blood soaked past and their anticlimactic present, he mustered up all of his energy to focus on finishing his goal, nothing more, and nothing less. He would go there, protect them from Frieza, guide them to a better path—even if he had to force them to see things his way—and be on his merry way back into the present and into the Afterlife, if it was permitted.

He could think about all of that later, though. Now was a good time to check on how Pan was faring.

* * *

It took six hours for Pan to become a Super Saiyan, and it took another three hours to get her to transform at will. Goku was nothing short of impressed.

By the time that both of them were finally satisfied with her progress, it was nearing his departure time. His twenty-four hours was nearly up, and he slowly felt the energy sap away from him, into the atmosphere, and back to Shen Long. He became a bit concerned when Bulma still hadn’t contacted him yet, but it was shortly after he teleported his granddaughter and himself back to Earth that the pager buzzed. Goku was going to drop her back home, but she begged to stay with him so much that he felt himself relenting. He ended up taking her along for the ride under the proviso that she wouldn’t say anything until they were done.

At the moment, Bulma was standing in front of the old time machine, completing the finishing touches before she relinquished it to him. She asked about the year that he wanted to go back to, and to be safe, the direct coordinates of Planet Vegeta. Thankfully, King Kai knew at least that much about Planet Vegeta, and he even wrote it down on a crinkled piece of paper so that Goku wouldn’t forget.

“Now I have to warn you,” she said after she was done. “This machine isn’t from our future. This machine is from an off-set of our future. Which means that the timeline that this machine comes from isn’t our own. It isn’t Trunks’ either, because he still has that one.” Goku frowned, trying to wrap his mind around what she was telling him and more importantly why she was saying it, and she noticed his bemusement.

“So you know that Future Trunks came into the past,” Bulma started, and Goku nodded. “And by coming into the past, he changed our future. Which means our future is no longer his future. He still had to defeat the androids after he helped us. And because there was a disruption in the space-time continuum, Cell was able to get his hands on a time machine. Which means that this,” she smacked the side of it, right where she once wrote the word ‘_HOPE_,’ “isn’t from either ours’ _or _Trunks’ original time. It’s an aberration, a wild card.”

“Does that mean that I can’t go into the past anymore?”

“If that were the case, I would have just told you outright. Give me a little credit,” she laughed, and she leaned off of it, folding her arms. “All I’m saying is: going into the past with this machine in particular is unpredictable. You could end up in a different time than you wanted; you could end up getting lost in the middle of space for all we know. I installed an emergency router in case something happens, but you’ve got to be the one to activate it. If you find yourself in any danger at all, _don’t_ take it on yourself and just come back home. I won’t give it to you unless you agree to do that for me.”

“Alright, I will,” Goku agreed. “But what if it’s something I can handle? Could I stay then?”

“You may be the strongest man in the universe,” she snapped, “but you aren’t a god. If you happen to get stuck out there, there’s no way for you to return back here. So if you see anything dangerous, anything at all, you’ll press that emergency router button. Okay?”

At her incessancy, he agreed again, and she breathed.

“Good,” she said, and she enclosed the capsule into a small box and placed it firmly in his palm.

Not an hour passed when everyone somehow knew to meet Goku at Capsule Corp, and he was surprised to see them all there. Apparently, they had remembered that he was going to be leaving today at around this time, and they felt out for his ki. Shen Long was already there as well, hovering over the building like looming thunderclouds. Everyone said their heartfelt woes and hopes to see him again, but Pan held no such illusion. She simply stayed by his side quietly, her head bowed as it was the first time that she found out that he was supposed to leave. And Vegeta seemed quiet as well, but he was aloof. He probably didn’t want to be bothered now that he has done his due diligence, especially since he wouldn’t look at Goku at all. But that was fine. That was more than enough for him.

When it was almost time for him to leave, Goku flew upwards, right in Shen Long’s face. He told him that he was going to go into the past and that he probably wouldn’t be back anytime soon. For a friend, he elaborated, and Shen Long remained quiet for a very long time. Perhaps it was because they were now connected, but the dragon seemed to have already known that this was going to be the case.

“Because of your sacrifice, I have spared your life and listened to the wishes of your friends. But my mercy only extends so far.”

“That’s okay,” Goku said, smiling. He had prepared himself for this since the idea popped into his head. Maybe Bulma was right; maybe he _was_ impulsive, but now that he dedicated himself to this, he wasn’t going to back down at the last minute. If he was to do this, then he would see everything through to the end, consequences and all.

“You will be unable to reside on Earth or any place in the Otherworld thereafter,” he bellowed, and everyone’s attention immediately turned towards them, hearing only the tail end of their conversation. “Do you understand the ramifications of your actions?”

“Yeah,” Goku affirmed, resolute, and Shen Long dipped his head once in acknowledgement before ascending into the clouds, shining brilliantly before dissipating altogether. Knowing that he didn’t have that much time left, he pressed the capsule and threw it, and that was when all the questions bloomed.

“Where are you going, Goku?”

“What happened to Shen Long?”

“Are you coming back?”

“Is that a time machine?”

“Why do you have a time machine?”

“Did something happen?”

He didn’t answer any of their questions; he simply told them that he would probably see them again sometime soon—how familiar the exchange was wasn’t lost on him—and he jumped into the cockpit, waving cheerfully at them, just like he would have a day before had he left with Shen Long. Everyone seemed to take his evasiveness for granted—this was Goku, they said, if he wasn’t quirky, he wouldn’t be him—and they ended up letting him go without much more of a fuss. And Chichi…

Chichi was frustrated, even more so that he didn’t spend his last moments with his family, with her, but she caved in with a sigh, leaning on Goten for strength. He felt really bad, but it wasn’t as if he wanted to leave them like this. In one way or another, he would have to go. And at the very least, he was able to see them all once more before he went into the past. He would carry the memory of them as his inspiration to carry on, to come back home one day.

He pressed the orange button that finalized his departure, and he was violently thrust into the sky. His friends became smaller and smaller until he couldn’t see them anymore, and in the next second, they disappeared altogether. Only darkness surrounded him, and he closed his eyes, relaxing into his cockpit. It practically drowned his small body, but it was strangely comfortable. Being in this time machine in particular reminded him of Future Trunks, and it reminded him of everyone back home. It felt warm, almost like a snug blanket of support wrapped around his shoulders. Before he knew it, he fell asleep.

* * *

Five hours later and a harsh jerk woke Goku, and he rubbed his eyes, rearranging himself from the wild position he somehow managed to get himself in. He blearily looked around him, partially aware that he was still in space, floating in front of a planet, and then he blinked once, twice, three times. Slowly, he began to recognize what he was looking at, and he glimpsed down at the small monitor a few inches from his lap.

It read: _Planet Vegeta_, _Age 736, May 17, 12:24 AM_.

Disbelief began to gnaw at his mind, and he reached forward and pressed the yellow button, the one that Bulma had explained to him was for landing. He was curious about this, because this—there was no way that this was right. Wasn’t Planet Vegeta supposed to have been a red planet or something?

But this one was blue.

In the span of a few minutes, he landed on a remote section, a large swath of open grassplot right next to a bed of water that he hadn’t even thought to have existed, being that it was supposed to have been a dry location. This place strangely reminded him of Namek: it had large, purple trees, tall mountains, and strange flying creatures that looked like the dinosaurs that he’d seen back on Earth. It was peaceful, something that he wouldn’t associate with the Saiyans. And when one of the birds swooped down a few feet away from him, giving him a curious chirp, despite looking the way he did next to strange technology, both things that should have been a deterrent to any animal indigenous to the planet, he couldn’t help but laugh to himself.

Somehow, he ended up in a place that was and wasn’t Planet Vegeta at the same time. It was probably one of those strange quirks that Bulma warned him about. A flitting reminder about the emergency router that she had demanded him to use shot through his mind, but…it wasn’t like he was in danger right now, and the more he saw was the more curious he became. This place wasn’t anything like how King Kai told him it would be, and it looked nothing like how he saw it in the past. It was something new, and something new wasn’t always something bad.

Goku shut off of the time machine and released it, and it turned back into a capsule. He placed it into the white box, tucking it neatly next to his chest, and then he looked around. Despite how tranquil it appeared, the Saiyans probably still lived somewhere on this planet. If it wasn’t here, then it was elsewhere. And while he didn’t mind staying here for the rest of this planet’s existence—he wasn’t truly alive, but he wasn’t dead, so he could afford to stay until whenever he wanted to go into the Afterlife—he came into the past for a reason. He wouldn’t jeopardize seeing his friends and family again for the rest of his life just to sit in the middle of nowhere playing around. The Saiyans were close by, so he’d search them out, and then he’d find Vegeta.

But first, he was going to find something to eat. He was on that time machine for hours, and he was absolutely starving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it this far, thanks! Hopefully you'll feel generous (or bored) enough to read the next one when it comes out.
> 
> And full disclaimer: I’m not a physicist, I know nothing about the multiverse and/or string theory or any other universal theories that exist. If you happen to be knowledgeable in this subject, please take this with less than a grain of salt. 
> 
> (_And I mean going into an alternate past makes just as much sense as going into an alternate future, which is what Trunks' future is. There's no possible way that a linear time travel machine can just so happen to cross boundaries to—of all the billions of permutations that exist—conveniently aid Trunks out with his deity problems, I'm sorry. I love the series but I can't buy it lol. At least there's wriggle room as to why it might happen here, no matter how outlandish it is._)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goku and Vegeta meet for the first time. It doesn’t turn out too well. It becomes even more uncomfortable when Goku is forced to do one of the few things that he hates the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're halfway through the introduction section, folks. Think you can last two more chapters?
> 
> **OOC tags added if requested**

This planet, Goku thought, really was a weird place.

When he circled around the immediate vicinity, he had found some peculiar things about this forest. Besides the strangely receptive animals in what was supposed to be a hostile planet and the oddly placed iridescent rivers not unlike those in the Sacred World of the Kais, there were strange, maroon, porcupine-looking fruits that grew in the midst, attached to tall cobalt trees. Something about them seemed so familiar but he couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but when he got close and sniffed one, he realized what it reminded him of: the fruits from the Tree of Might. But unlike those fruits, these bore no unusual ki, and it didn’t suck out the energy of its host. They were just like any other fruit in the world, and hunger finally overtaking his discretion, he greedily bit into one, the juices messily running down his chin and down the bob of his throat. He sloppily wiped it away with the back of his hand before reaching up and grabbing another one.

Once he was sated, he rubbed his stomach happily before jumping to his feet, wandering around a bit more to get his blood flowing before he did another preliminary scan of his surroundings. For the past few hours, he had been searching, seeing how powerful all of the inhabitants were, gauging how malicious they were. He was on a foreign land, after all, and he had some level of self-preservation. There was a certain appeal to the unknown, but now probably wouldn’t be the best time to test his bounds. Well, it wasn’t like anyone on this planet would have been able to harm him, much less defeat him, but Vegeta once told him that strength wasn’t everything in a battle.

Speaking of Vegeta…

Goku sharpened his senses, searching for Vegeta’s ki. He wasn’t sure if he would feel the same here like it would back on Earth, but it was worth a try. If he managed to find him, that would make his life a lot easier.

Thankfully, his signature was the same as always, albeit much weaker than before, but that was to be expected considering that Goku travelled almost fifty years into the past. At the moment, Vegeta was with about seventy or so people, and Goku was so eager that he didn’t even hesitate to teleport to where he was.

Maybe he should have thought it through a little more.

He landed smack dab in a large corridor, surrounded by enormous white pillars, standing on top of a velvet carpet, in the midst of what appeared to be guards. He had walked right into some sort of gathering and everyone stared at him, their expressions aghast. He was taken aback by how many people there were until he saw Nappa, bearing a ridiculous mop of hair. And not too far from where he was standing was Vegeta and _boy _did he look small!

He was only slightly taller than Goku was, his hair giving him the advantage that he was bigger than he appeared. Even back then, Vegeta had the same scowl that Goku became to grow fond of, and briefly disregarding everyone else, he waltzed right up to him and came closer, right up until he was standing right in front of Vegeta and his father, and the air shifted slightly, tensing until it was near stifling. But he never really was one to care about social cues.

Goku lifted a hand in greeting. “Hey, Vegeta!”

Gasps resounded in the grand hall and whispers crawled among the guards that were inching closer and closer to them. _He dares to call the Prince so casually_, Goku heard one say to the far left of him. _Who is this child that he can be so familiar with the Prince of all Saiyans?_ They were posed to strike, but their curiosity most likely kept them at bay. Vegeta, on the other hand, wasn’t so patient. One disapproving glance from his father spurred him into action.

Vegeta snarled, striding up to where he stood, and pushed his shoulder with enough force to make Goku stumble back. The disdain and disgust in his eyes were what startled Goku; he had spent decades fighting alongside him, and overtime, Vegeta’s gaze warmed. Every so often, Vegeta even cracked a smirk, even if it was at his expense, and it was enough for Goku to know that Vegeta was somewhat comfortable with him. But regarding this small child made him feel like he had started from scratch.

Proving his point, Vegeta folded his arms and peered down at Goku, patronizing. “Such insolence. Who are you to talk to me with such disrespect?”

It was then that it really sunk in that Goku was in the past. He really made it. Even if it wasn’t his past, _their_ past, he was still on Planet Vegeta. No one knew him here, not Vegeta, not anyone. He shouldn’t have anticipated that someone would.

“Oh right, you don’t know me in this time,” Goku muttered to himself, slightly unnerved by Vegeta's hostility. He recovered his footing in the next heartbeat with a grin. This is what he came for after all. “Well, that’s fine! I’m Son Goku, nice to meet ya.”

Curling his lip, Vegeta slowly repeated, “_Son_? That’s not a Saiyan name.” Immediately, something shifted in his eyes, and he ignored Goku, glaring hotly at the guards in front of him. “Are you men so incompetent that you allowed a rogue Saiyan into the assembly hall without so much as lifting a finger? Seize this person at once.”

Goku’s eyes widened as two of the guards closest to him gave a shaky affirmation and quickly held his arms behind his back with all of their might. If Goku really wanted to, he could have broken out of it without powering up to Super Saiyan; these men weren’t even a thousandth of his full strength, but he was confused and wanted answers. Yeah, he had essentially burst into their castle without warning, but he hadn’t hurt anyone or anything. There was no reason for them for them to treat him like he was some criminal.

“Wait, why are you doing this? I haven’t done anything wrong.” He struggled enough for the two guards to loosen their grip on him, but all of the other guards surrounded him, and Goku wasn’t tall enough to see Vegeta anymore. “Come on, Vegeta. I know you don’t know me but—”

“_Prince_ Vegeta,” Vegeta hissed, and the guards parted for him. He stood a sizable distance from Goku, enough that he could strike if he felt the urge to, and that made Goku oddly uncomfortable for some reason. He had wanted to spar with Vegeta, but not like this.

“I originally thought to send you for interrogation, but this is more than enough. What business do you have on this planet, Saiyan? Are you a space pirate, perhaps? Come to assassinate the royal line? Did you intend to hold us hostage until the rest of your crew come? Or are you a spy? If you’re a spy,” he chuckled nastily, “You’re a terrible one.”

“I’m not here for any of that,” Goku said, frowning. “I just wanna live here for a while.”

“I hardly think that you’re here just to reconnect with your roots,” Vegeta scoffed. “There’s a perfectly good place to become a citizen of this planet if that’s what you were aiming for. But I’ll allow you to humor me. So tell me, do you know where you are?”

Goku shook his head. “No? Am I supposed to know where I am?”

Vegeta ignored him. “Then how did you think to come here?”

“I just followed your energy, that’s all.”

Surprised, his eyebrows rose, but it was only for a short amount of time before he nodded to one of the guards, and the guard pressed at the side of his scouter a few times before he announced, “His power level is one-thousand, Prince Vegeta.”

At this, many of the guards stared at Goku with kindled interest, and Vegeta sniffed scornfully.

“One-thousand, is it? That number is nothing to me.” He gave Goku a once over, and then glanced back at his father, who remained indifferent, remaining on his spot on the throne, staring back at them impassively. Vegeta appraised Goku one more time before coming to a decision. “A low-level threat on its own, but he has a few tricks up his sleeve. Take him away for inspections. For now, we’ll enroll him into our army as a warrior-type. And if any of you find any indication that he’s acting suspiciously, kill him on the spot.”

Without another word, they carried him away—Goku was too short for his feet to touch the floor at the height they held him at—and as he left, he called out to Vegeta.

“I can come visit you after this, right?”

But Vegeta didn’t even bother look at him again; he waved his hand, signaling for them to resume whatever they were doing before Goku barged in, and Goku felt strangely insulted. He pouted all the way into the medical room and into a recuperation chamber, where he quickly passed out.

* * *

“Where are you from, Goku?”

This was the fifth time they’ve asked this question, and Goku was more than fit to be tired. And hungry. Very, very hungry…couldn’t they feed him while they were grilling him like this? He would have been much more receptive if they could have just given him something to eat. Even those Tree of Might look-alikes would have done fine. They were so hard on the outside, but the inside was supple and sweet. Just thinking about it made his mouth water.

“I already told you, I came from really far away,” Goku said sullenly, swallowing the saliva that had accumulated on his tongue. “Can I eat before we continue? I’m really hungry…”

“Not until we’re done,” the Pitalian woman said, flipping through her notepad. “You’ve only answered seven of the one-hundred and twenty-two questions on this list, and you can’t get a break until we’ve reached about halfway.”

“But how am I supposed to know the coordinates of my home planet?”

“You’ve lived on your planet for…twelve, you said? Twelve years, and you never once thought to inquire about the coordinates or the name of it? You’re not too bright, are you?”

“Hey, that’s mean!”

“Well, life isn’t too nice either, now is it.” She flipped to the second to last page, reading the long list of questions that she already bludgeoned him over the head with, and then she glanced at him. She must have seen something on Goku’s face because her expression softened a tad, yielding to something more sympathetic.

“How about this,” she started, and Goku perked up, sensing hope. “If you can answer twenty more questions, I’ll grab food for you in the Mess Hall. What do you say?”

Twenty questions was a lot better than one-hundred and fifteen, and he took the opportunity eagerly. Sighing with relief, she started once more, repeating an easier question that Goku didn’t feel the need to evade, and after another fifteen painful minutes of hunger, she nodded, satisfied. She got up, and his eyes followed her, bright and beaming.

“Now if I were you, I wouldn’t do anything funny. This room is highly surveilled and protected with guards.”

“I won’t,” Goku reassured, and she nodded, leaving him alone in the medical bay, having only the humming of the recuperation chamber and another machine with what he hoped _wasn’t_ needles as his company. He took everything in: the tangled wires, the large multi-purpose screens, the coffin looking things, the tall and clear cabinets full of different colored bottles, and all the gadgets and devices that he had never seen before.He was thinking of touching the sparking light next to one of the large screens when the Pitalian woman walked back in, carefully balancing three trays of food.

Eagerly, he ran over and took a tray out of her hand. Once he was sure that she could balance the other two, he sat back down, digging into it ravenously. He hadn’t even looked at what he ate, but he knew it was tasty. It was unusual too; it had a strange texture that felt like jello, mashed potatoes, and horumon-yaki mixed into one dish. It was salty with a pang of sweetness strung along on the end, and it smelled really good too.

“You still have the appetite of a Saiyan,” she commented, amused. “That’s good. You’ll need all the strength you can get for the next part.”

Goku swallowed his food and chased it down with the gallon sized water carton she got for him. “About that. Aren’t you from Pital?”

She blinked slowly, and then she tilted her head forward, intrigued. “I am. Why do you ask?”

“Aren’t you pretty far from Pital? How’d you get here? Did they kidnap you?”

Apparently, she didn’t expect that, and she burst out in a boisterously loud fit of laughter. “Oh goodness, no. I was an analyst, and when the King came across our planet on business, he liked me enough to ask me to come along back with him to help out his people in exchange for a greater research opportunity. Me, and a few other doctors and scientists. I wasn’t kidnapped or anything like that. What would lead you to think so?”

“Oh,” Goku said instead, and remained quiet for a while. He let the information settle into the back of his mind as he picked up his tray again and licked the scraps clean before starting on the next one. Across from him, the woman scrutinized him carefully.

“You know, for someone who can’t remember the name of where he came from, you sure know a lot about other planets,” she stated, and Goku met her gaze. “I don’t know what you’re here for or what you’re hiding, but don’t think you’ll be able to get away with it forever. This place is pretty stringent about loyalty to His Majesty. And you’re not from here. If there’s even the slightest hint that you’ll betray them, then…”

Goku grinned, touched at her concern.

“I know. But I’m only here to help where I can. And besides, I’ll be fine. I’m kinda strong, you know.”

After he ate all of his food, she interrogated him for another two hours, and then she directed him and his escorts to the training room. It was bigger than anything Goku had ever seen before—second to the Hyperbolic Time Chamber itself—and it was sturdy. There was barely anything around, save for a corner that had a machine and a pod with foreign characters on its front glass, but despite all of the singes on the ceiling and the walls, there wasn’t a single dent in sight. The tan walls were smooth, and the marble floor felt brand new. It smelled really nice too, almost like cinnamon, lime, and sweat mingled together. His tail swished feverishly behind him, and he bounced on the tips of his toes, excited.

A Saiyan woman approached him, stern, even after he greeted her amicably. If he were anyone else, Goku probably would have felt intimidated by her presence alone. She was awfully cold, even more so than his escorts. At least they snickered a few times when he pulled out a bad joke or two.

“We’ll be assessing your physical capabilities. You’ll be fighting these five third-class soldiers. For this exam, no weapons are allowed, but ki blasts can be used, and all other tactics are allowed. The winner is whoever manages to incapacitate the other. Any questions?”

When Goku remained silent, she blew a whistle. The first soldier, a Saiyan child who looked like he was about Pan’s age, charged at him, punching and kicking at him fiercely. He aimed for Goku’s stomach and his solar plexus, but Goku was faster. He dodged all of the child’s attacks until he grew frustrated and sloppily threw a roundhouse kick to Goku’s side. It was timed badly enough that he ended up slipping on his own feet, and as lightly as he could, Goku knocked him out cold with a hit to the back of his neck. Another whistle blew, and the next soldier, now one that looked about Trunks’ age, waited for Goku to move first. He was conscientious of his surroundings and his opponent, a discretion that indicated a few years of practice, but his form was incredibly predictable. And all of the rest were the same. They wasn’t anything wrong with how they fought, but…it wasn’t enough.

After the last soldier, Goku stretched his arms and cracked his back. “Is that it? Can’t I fight someone harder?”

“No, that’s quite enough. You’ve more than proven your worth to us.” She typed a few words on a small pad and shut it off. “You’re dismissed.”

“But—”

“You’ll have plenty of opportunities to fight later on,” she said, and it didn’t look like she was going to budge at all. “You’ll hear the results of your examination at exactly 1800 today. Is that understood?”

He slowly nodded, and the two escorts took him away, much to his protests. He rather liked that place, but it looked like he wasn’t going to be able to unilaterally get anywhere until he was properly admitted in Planet Vegeta. And considering that he still didn’t know anything about what was going on—he wasn’t expecting a Pitalian on this planet; that was for sure—it was probably better if he just watched to see where it went.

The third and final place that he was taken to was a room not unlike the classrooms that he used to visit Gohan in on those overbearing Parent’s Days, and Goku already dreaded it. It was probably a written exam, and he was terrible at those. But maybe it was something else. Maybe it was a test on concentration or something. He didn’t like focusing on one thing for too long, but that was a lot better than sitting at a desk, trying to figure out problems that he never learned in the first place.

Ten minutes later, a child walked into the room. She fidgeted at the entrance before she walked in and sat all the way in the front and center. As if she were a trickle of water, more children began to pour in, and the seats began to quickly fill up. Despair bit Goku in the back and he turned to one of the guards.

“Do I really gotta do this?”

“If you’re going to be a warrior-type, yes,” he answered.

“Then do I have to be a warrior type? Can’t I do something else?”

“Prince Vegeta himself gave us orders to put you through this examination.” He ruffled Goku’s hair. “Sorry kid, you’re just going to have to bear with it. Don’t worry, it’s not that hard.”

He didn’t _have_ to bear with it; he could disappear right now. That idea sounded more and more appealing as the minutes went by, and when the proctor came into the room with a stack of papers that rivaled that of Bulma’s lab reports, he was already thinking of a place to hide for the evening. He didn’t do exams; he wasn’t that type of person. That was Gohan’s thing, or Bulma’s thing, or even Pan’s thing. She was in school too, wasn’t she? She’d be much more suited for this than he would. He didn’t have to finish some stupid test just to fight Frieza and train Vegeta.

But in a place where he had no credibility or connections whatsoever, was it really a good idea to do that? Who knows what would happen if he decided to run away now. They couldn’t defeat him; they definitely couldn’t stop him, but if he left on his own, they wouldn’t be willing to listen to him later down the line, would they. He could defeat Frieza fifty times over and they probably would brush him off, maybe even demand for him to leave their planet entirely. In their eyes, he was an outsider, and an outsider played by their rules, not the other way around. He didn’t know too much about Planet Vegeta, but he knew this much. And he did agree to watch and see how everything played out not just a few hours ago.

It was these thoughts that allowed him to sit there long enough for the test to be handed to him. On the sound of a bell, all of the children opened their booklets and furiously began to write. Not a second later did Goku open up his booklet, pen in hand, prepared to write something down, even if it was nothing but gibberish.

But he couldn’t.

He didn’t understand a single letter on the first page.

* * *

He failed the written portion of his examination.

That was hardly surprising.

* * *

Vegeta used to take great pleasure in calling Goku a third-class Saiyan. He always said how Goku was fated to fall below him in power and prestige. At the time, Goku brushed it off because he wasn’t on his home planet anymore, and his birth rank meant nothing to him, being that he was an Earthling. What mattered the most was how strong he was, and Goku was just as strong as Vegeta was—and became even stronger overtime—which invalidated the gap between their supposed ranks. If Goku had been on Planet Vegeta back then, with his strength, he might have actually been a first or a second-class, just like Vegeta was.

But when the results of the examination were handed to him, he laughed, amused.

He really was a third-class Saiyan to the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I think of kid Vegeta…I think of the kid who turned up his nose at lesser Saiyans, who was propped up by his father on the false belief that he was the best and no one could outdo him, but who also had a kind heart (in Super). As his mother isn’t really mentioned in the series, I’m kind of taking liberties with this, but I hope I can stay true to how I believe Vegeta was as a child while still keeping elements of his present self. It’ll be kind of hard, especially since, as you’ll see, he hasn’t gone through half of the crap he did in his alternate (present) self, but I don’t think a person changes. A person simply evolves, kind of like an onion. So present Vegeta still has elements of his past, and his past will show indications of his future.
> 
> Pitalian = as in of the planet Pital. It’s a world in GT that’s really good for its medicine.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goku, Raditz, a taste of third-class life, and a massive information dump.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do my eyes deceive me, or does this fanfiction now have more than 70 kudos and 700 views? Haha…well. Thanks.

The guards appeared to leave without much fanfare. Luckily, Goku knew much better.

After he had shown them the results of his exam, one of the guards left to give word to Vegeta, but the other one said that he was “going on break.” That’s what he said. What he _actually_ did was turn around a few short corners and observe Goku from afar. One pair of eyes became three, and Goku didn’t need to sense them anymore to feel their gaze penetrating his back. It wasn’t exactly a bad thing—he got it loud and clear: he was a stranger and all, breaking into their palace and approaching their leader like he did—but it was kind of disingenuous, and he didn’t like that. Still, if that was the worst it got, then he would gladly take it.

Being handed a brand new scouter that he was obligated to use by one of the guards, Goku was given free reign of the Common Area, and he wandered around in circles for a while, taking in the spotless hallways and the gleaming windows. But as nosy as he was, it didn’t last very long. With one whiff of food in the air, he cut his adventure short, more than eager to eat again after that torturous written exam he went through. He let his senses guide him, and he was led to a large cafeteria packed with rowdy Saiyans that noisily drank from quart sized kegs and sloppily ate from enormous plates, chockfull of an assortment of different dishes that he had never seen before.

Mingling among them, he observed them curiously, and distracted by his surroundings, he bumped into someone. Goku was about to apologize when he realized just who he knocked over.

It was a decidedly peculiar feeling to see someone that he knew in his world; with Vegeta, it was an experience full of wonder. Vegeta was just so small and proud, but he looked so fragile at the same time. He wasn’t quite vulnerable, but he was malleable, perhaps due to his age. It was a side of him that Goku had never seen before, but it was a side of him that he rather liked. He wasn’t sure if he could say the same of his brother who he happened to bump into.

“Watch where you’re—.” Raditz did a double-take when he saw it was Goku, and then he frowned. “Oh. You’re not him.”

_Not who_ was what Goku wanted to ask, but he knew full well who Raditz had thought he was. He wasn’t sure how old he was on this planet, but he probably wasn’t much taller than he was right now. Maybe he looked even smaller. So instead he grinned and said, “Sorry about that. I got distracted.” He offered his hand in reconciliation, but Raditz just scoffed at it.

“Whatever. Just watch where you’re going next time.” He was going to leave, side-stepping around Goku, but he thought better about it. Interest lit his eyes as he gazed at Goku again, taking in his blue and orange training gi.

“You’re that rogue, aren’t you? The one who snuck into the assembly hall and tried to assassinate King Vegeta?”

Affronted, Goku scowled, correcting, “I didn’t do anything like that. Where’d you hear that from?”

“News spreads around fast in the Mess Hall,” Raditz replied, and grabbed Goku’s wrist. “Well, what are you waiting for? You came to eat, right? I’ll treat you.”

He pulled him through the busy traffic in the Mess Hall, somehow managing to navigate with ease despite the mass of bodies that stood in his way, brushing off anyone who tried to greet him or inquire about Goku. In minutes, he had already pulled Goku to the front of the line for food, piled both of their plates with every conceivable dish on the menu just like everyone else, and sat him down in front of a rickety table to the far back. Raditz dug into his food ravenously, and not having any reason to believe that the same portions of food would be poisoned, Goku joined him as well.

“Everyone else seems to be cautious around me,” he stated between bites, “Why aren’t you?”

Raditz swallowed.

“Well, there hasn’t been anyone who has tried to assassinate the King and lived,” he explained, his feet swishing under the table. “No matter how messed up the King is or how unfair this stupid ranking system is, everyone has sworn their loyalty to him. So if you’ve managed to get out unharmed, then that means you’re super cool. What tier are you?”

“Third class.”

“Yeah, obviously, or you wouldn’t be here,” Raditz retorted snidely, and he reached forward and pulled the scouter right off of the side of Goku’s face.

“Hey! Give that back!”

“Don’t be such a baby, I just want to see something.” He clicked the side of the scouter a few times and stopped. “Woah. You’re a high-tier. That’s even better than me.”

“A high tier?”

“Yeah. There are three tiers within each class. Even foreigners know that much about us.” He clicked again, and his nose scrunched up in distaste. “Suhn Gokoo? That’s a funny name. Doesn’t sound strong at all.”

Goku snatched it back from him. “It’s _Son Goku_, and it’s a great name. My grandfather named me that.”

“Your grandfather? What about your father?”

That was a good question. “I dunno. I never met him.”

Raditz’s feet stopped swishing for a moment, and his tail stilled in the air.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’m not upset at all. If anything, I’m thankful to my dad for giving me the chance to stay with my grandpa.” But Raditz still looked pretty sullen, so Goku changed the subject.

“You said that King Vegeta was really unfair?”

“Yeah. It’s not fair that only the high-tier second class and the elites get a chance to go on away missions,” Raditz reluctantly answered, and his tail flicked to life behind him. “And Prince Vegeta gets to go to our allied planets even though he’s younger than me. Even the youngest Saiyan that’s dispatched is my age at least. But he’s only nine cycles old. Just because he’s the prince…”

“But he’s really strong, isn’t he?”

“Uh huh. He’s really strong. Almost as strong as the King himself. He has a power level of 50000,” Raditz sulked. “But it’s still not fair. I’ve been waiting to go on an away mission for three cycles, since the day I finished lessons after I was eight cycles old, yet I’m stuck here as palace security, training day in and day out with the same stupid robots. It’s not just me; all of the third class feel this way.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s a big deal,” Raditz snapped. “Do you know what that means? Even if you’re not from here, you’re a Saiyan; you should know. Fighting is in our blood. Adventuring excites us. Being dispatched is the greatest honor; we’re trusted to properly represent the kingdom and yet—only they can do it. Unless we get into a war, and that hasn’t happened in almost twoscore cycles.”

“No, not that,” Goku said. “Is that the only reason why you’d want someone to kill him? Aren’t you supposed to have absolute loyalty to the King?”

“That’s…” He stared at his empty plate. “I’m not. I don’t care if I get tried for it, I don’t like how the third class are treated. He see us as savages that can’t take care of important missions, that’s what it is.” His eyes flickered back up to Goku’s, and he wilted. “Maybe you wouldn’t understand after all.”

Maybe Goku didn’t understand. To him, such a petty reason wasn’t one to justify why someone should die. Dissatisfaction should serve as a motivator to change things, not to kill someone. But he was an outsider, and he only arrived onto this planet recently. Raditz was nothing more than a child, and his immaturity shone brighter than ever, but maybe there was a modicum of truth behind his words. And it wasn’t like Goku didn’t know how it felt to be restless. It was why he didn’t stay in the same place for more than a few years. If he was trapped doing the same things over and over, fighting the same thing over and over, not getting any stronger or weaker, he’d probably be incredibly miserable himself.

“Maybe he’s trying to protect you all? He didn’t seem like a bad guy.”

“No way. King Vegeta doesn’t care about anything except for protecting his kingdom. Rumors say that he doesn’t even really care about Prince Vegeta that much. He probably just wants his son to succeed him on the throne.”

It didn’t seem like Raditz would budge about it, so Goku left it alone.

“What do they do on away missions, anyways?”

Raditz’s expression brightened, and he excitedly began to explain how eight Saiyans were dispatched to each planet based on distress signals that were received, and about how Planet Vegeta was in a symbiotic treaty with six of the closest planets. In exchange for a portion of that planet’s goods, Raditz said, the Saiyans offered that planet absolute protection from outside threats and controlled inside protocols. And since Planet Vegeta was not a part of the United Galactic Federation, none of the planets had to abide by their rules and regulations either, and were also offered protection from them, even if one of their allied forces attacked first.

“But if they don't get help from other planets, why doesn’t the King join the—what was it called again?”

“The United Galactic Federation? Because he didn’t want to get dragged into anyone else’s problems, probably.”

“Then what about the planets he has a treaty with?”

“We conquered those,” he retorted proudly, and the wince on Goku’s face gave him pause. “What? It’s not like we killed them or anything, and we didn’t take them over by force, either. Except for Tuffles. They attacked first. That’s what I heard. But the other planets surrendered peacefully, and we took them over if they had something we liked. That’s why we’re able to get all this food; it’s all from the other planets. See?”

He pointed to the boxes of food tucked in a corner, stacked neatly on top of each other.

“Oh.” This time, it was Goku’s turn to become sullen. He quickly shook it off. That was to be expected. “What about Frieza, then?”

“Who?”

“You know, Frieza. The one that everyone was forced to work for?” At Raditz’s blank expression, he added, “You know, looks like a weird lizard, has a long tail and webbed feet?” He even grabbed the knife and started to draw him on his plate. It came out terribly, but Goku wasn’t an artist. And at the very least, it looked somewhat like him, even if it were unproportioned in all the wrong places.

“I don’t know who this ‘Frieza’ is,” Raditz said, “but Frost looks kind of like that. He’s got horns though. Right here.” He took up his own knife and carved two straight lines on the terribly drawn picture of Frieza, right near both sides of its head, and something clicked in Goku’s head.

“Yup, that guy.”

“Our planet doesn’t deal with him. He’s a member of the UGF, highly hailed by the Space King himself.” His voice grew disdainful, and he leaned in, strands of his hair draping over their small table. “But between you and me, that guy’s a slimeball. He’s supposed to be really kind, but he’s actually super sneaky. He’s the type of person that would smile in your face and stab you in your back. Like a talking rrhopili and an abdoh, the worst type of person. Even his brother Cooler is much better than he is. At least he’s not a faker. But try proving that to everyone. He’s got awards up to the pointy horns on his head.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He’s a big reason King Vegeta doesn’t want to join the UGF. He doesn’t trust Frost as far as he could spit.”

That was interesting. So Cooler existed here, but Frieza didn’t. Or maybe Frieza _was _Frost? But Frieza wasn’t exactly the type of person to fake it until he made it. If he wanted something, then he would just take it, no questions asked. He would start off real nice at first, but when he saw that things weren’t going the way he expected, he would become ruthless and kill anyone who got in his way. That’s what Goku learned about him from the little time he fought him on Namek and through Vegeta’s Spartan stories. Frost, on the other hand, didn’t sound like that at all. And it wasn’t like Frost was antagonizing the Saiyans in any way, right? Then he probably didn’t have to worry about it for now.

Right now, he was more interested in learning more about his older brother. This eleven year-old boy—at least, he hoped a cycle equaled a year—was a far cry from the man who took Goku’s son for hostage in exchange for his cooperation. The Raditz here was a loud-mouthed, petulant, and a somewhat selfish child, but he was genuine and forthright. He wasn’t the kindest, but besides that Pitalian lady, Goku hasn’t met anyone compassionate yet. When Goku first met Raditz, he was a cold-blooded murderer. But here? He felt human. He felt so human that he found himself thinking that maybe Raditz wasn’t that bad after all. Maybe he turned out to be the way he was before because of how he happened to grow up.

Goku jumped off of his chair.

“Hey, are you free right now?”

“Well, I was going to go back to my post now,” Raditz said, collecting Goku’s plate along with his own, “but I’ll leave you my scouter ID. You’re kind of clueless anyways, so you’ll need someone to show you the ropes around here. Gimme your scouter.”

Goku pouted at the insult but handed it over with a small retort that he was _not_ clueless, but Raditz ignored him. He quickly jammed a sequence of buttons on the side of Goku’s scouter, pressing a few times on the scouter on his own head before handing it back to him.

“There. Now you can contact me whenever you want. I’m really late now, so I gotta go, but I’ll page you later.” He quickly waved at Goku before running off, bumping into a few other people that slapped Raditz on the shoulder or ruffled his hair, and Goku was left standing there. He placed the scouter back on his face and turned it on for the first time, interested to see what Raditz did.

He really shouldn’t have bothered.

Because just like with that godawful test, he couldn’t read a word of what was on his screen.

* * *

After trying to figure out how to work his scouter for a half an hour with absolutely no results, Goku gave up on it and returned to aimlessly wandering around the Common Area again. The guard who gave him his scouter had told him that he would receive further instructions later on that evening, but he hadn’t gotten anything yet, and he wouldn’t be able to understand what was on his scouter even if he did.

His only hope was to find someone who could possibly help him—if someone would be willing to help him. He thought about the sparring room that he took part of his exam in. That room wasn’t one that was sparsely used, and if they were training in there right now, then maybe he could get some answers there. Even more importantly than that, it would be a nice chance to properly fight someone for once. He had been feeling restless for a while.

He had absolutely no clue where the sparring room was in the first place, but he didn’t need to if he just needed to find sporadic ki levels. He concentrated for a second, and then he grasped onto a few dozen or so.

“That way,” Goku muttered, and then he teleported there. He hadn’t realized how close he was to the people that he tracked, though, and when he got there, he dodged two kicks and a particularly large energy blast that almost took Goku off guard. He repelled it to the ceiling, and everyone halted, staring.

“What’s a kid doin’ here?” One of the Saiyans approached him, circling around him a few times. “You could’ve gotten really hurt a tick ago. Don’t you know that this slot’s reserved for us mid-tier second class?”

“There are reserved times?”

“’Course there are, what kinda question is…” He stared really hard at Goku, and then he grabbed Goku’s face, grimy, bloody hands and all, angling it this way and that. It got old incredibly quickly, and Goku slapped his hand away, jumping back a few feet and wiping his cheeks.

“What was that for?”

“You’re that fella that snuck ‘to the assembly hall,” he noted with a hint of awe, and everyone else started to come closer, wariness growing among them. “But you look real familiar…feels like I’ve seen your face somewhere before.”

“Don’t you think he looks like Bardock,” another inquired, scrutinizing him carefully, and the other Saiyan snapped his fingers.

“There we go! Looks like the splittin’ image of ‘im. That one’s got a mind of steel, that he does.” He nodded to himself, and then he remembered what he was originally doing and shook his head. “That don't matter. Now from what I get, you’re a third class, kid. Third class Saiyans don’t get the trainin’ room until 2000 after. Them bots aren’t up yet.”

“But I didn’t come here to train, I came here to get help with this.” He pointed to the scouter on the side of his head. “I can’t use it.”

“And ya came _here_ to get help? We ain’t the tech team,” he guffawed loudly. But another Saiyan took pity on Goku. She nudged the other laughing Saiyan harshly before she bent down to Goku’s level.

“He’s just a kid, Calli, and he doesn’t know anything about our customs. Try to be nicer to him,” she reprimanded, and then she turned to Goku. “If it’s a technical problem, I may not be able to help, but I can teach you how to use it.”

The Saiyan named Calli huffed as she led Goku away from the arena to a far corner of the room, and all of the gawkers eventually returned back to sparring with each other, albeit glancing in their direction every so often. She explained how to turn it off, how to turn it on, and how to view and send his messages. When Goku said that he couldn’t understand anything on his screen, she bit her lip, contemplative.

“That could be a problem…usually, Saiyans are taught the native tongue from birth until eight cycles have passed, but if you’re not from here…and I can’t teach you right now, either. All of us are training for the assessment a little above a cycle and a half from now. Once we become high-tier, we’ll be able to go on away missions too. And we’ve been training for a long time just for this chance. I’m really sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Goku smiled. He at least knew how to use it, even if he didn’t know what he was doing, and that was much more than he knew before. Maybe if he saw Raditz again, he could ask him for help. He would ask that Pitalian lady, but he wasn’t sure if she knew their language. He had a feeling that she probably didn’t. “But can I spar with you? It might help, and I really want to thank you for helping me out.”

She hummed, pressing her scouter, assessing his power level.

“Well,” she started weakly, “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt or anything. Your power level is only 1000, I mean, maybe you should wait—”

“Then if I raise it a little, can we spar then?”

“You can do that?”

“Sure I can,” he replied cheerily, and he flared his ki just enough that he only felt a little tingly. His body warmed, but it wasn’t even a percent of his full fighting power. It probably was around twice around how much he was before.

Sure enough, when she read her scouter, she gasped.

“2100! So much, just like that…” Her surprise cooled, and her gaze quickly became piercing.

“You’ve lied on your placement exam.”

“No I didn’t,” Goku argued, frowning. “The guards took my power level without asking. And they never asked if I could raise it.”

“Still…”

“And it’s not like they would listen to me, either,” he continued. “Vegeta barely listened to me when I tried explaining myself.”

“Prince Vegeta is a busy person,” she said, but she seemed satisfied. She thought it over for another moment, and then she perked up a little bit. “Alright, I accept your challenge. But you’re really not supposed to be here right now. I won’t be able to cover for you if you get in trouble.”

Beaming, Goku placed his scouter on the floor alongside hers and began to stretch. Besides Vegeta, this would be the first friendly, real, one-on-one fight he would have with someone just like him. Training in the gravity room was fun, teaching Uub was enthralling and it made his heart pump and his eyes gleam, and sparring with a lot of his other friends back home was exciting, but it was different somehow. And even though this lady wasn’t even a thousandth of his strength, at his level right now, it would be more than enough to stimulate him.

“That’s okay.”

They returned to the middle of the arena, and he stood there, completely defenseless.

“I’m ready whenever you are.”

She hesitated for a moment, but then she nodded. She flew in the air, aiming to give him a dropkick at his head, and Goku rolled over on the floor, propping himself back up. She tried again, this time aiming to swipe him off of his feet, but he jumped, and floating into the air himself, aimed a flurry of punches at her stomach that she blocked with her arms crossed. Not more than a few minutes passed when everyone else stopped to watch the two of them, and soon they crowded around them, cheering. It spurred her on, and she fought harder, becoming almost vicious in her attacks, and Goku let go for a moment, giving a slightly harder roundhouse kick to her side, and she flew from one side of the room to the other with a sickening crack.

Everything stopped, and Goku sucked in a sharp breath. He hadn’t meant to do that.

He flew over to her, about to reach over and see if she was unconscious or not, and she grabbed onto his arm and pulled him forward, jabbing her elbow into his ribs. He was so taken aback that he coughed once, twice, and then doubled over, wheezing in pain for a moment before he rolled over on his back and laughed.

“You’re pretty good,” he said, rubbing his chest. The pain was already starting to fade, but he remained on the floor anyways. “Can we call a truce for now?”

“Of course.” She smiled, holding her side with one hand and offering the other to him. He stood up, and the entire arena was engulfed with applause. Needless to say, Goku quickly became friends with them after that.

And thankfully, because they were all such good friends, they became tight-lipped enough to pardon Goku’s appearance during their training times, even going as far as to welcome him back again, so as long as he sparred with all of them at least once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never read Dragon Ball Minus, neither have I seen its animated equivalent, the Broly movie. About the Broly movie…I’ve heard nothing but good about it, but I’ve seen some parts that make me want to watch it and some parts that kind of…eh. So as a result, I’ve based Raditz’s personality as a child off of one lone picture of him staring at Goku in a capsule. It looks similar to a recuperation chamber, but I don’t know if it’s canon…? I guess Minus is if it’s in the new movie, right…I really want to read it, honestly. But BARDOCK. I loved his 1990s personality so much more…and Gine. I have no words for her. I definitely don’t hate her, but she just feels like the usual typical…maybe it’s my bias lol. But either way, please take Raditz’s characterization with a grain of salt. 
> 
> *rrhopili and abdoh are, according to my friend Wiki, a part of the scientific names for poisonous and blind snakes. In this story, they're indigenous creatures to Planet Vegeta.
> 
> **You see how there's _not_ an OC tag there? Hope that quells anyone's concerns. 
> 
> CH. 5 is currently a WIP. I did so well keeping this deadline that I'll aim to update no later than Oct. 6th, if I can.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goku, Bardock, and a lot of disappointment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late, but the most stressful projects are usually kept for last. Comes with the perks of procrastination.
> 
> At this point, I've pretty much gone almost completely off script. How lovely. 
> 
> Going to have to figure out how to rein it back in...^^;;

Only two days passed since his arrival on Planet Vegeta, but it felt as if everyone knew Goku’s name.

Every time he strolled down one of the hallways in the third class’ shared living quarters, more often than not, he was greeted by someone that he didn’t know. Word had gotten out that the “rogue Saiyan who looks like Commander Bardock” could fight, and suddenly, for some inexplicable reason, all was seemingly forgiven. It hadn’t mattered that the rumors of his alleged assassination attempt, no matter how fleeting, still floated around the palace, even in the lowest class—especially in the lowest class—and it hadn’t mattered that he was an outsider since a good percentage of those on Planet Vegeta were foreigners too. If he could fight, then he was alright. And he seemed friendly enough, they gossiped among themselves, so why not? Even his roommate, another third-class Saiyan that he still couldn’t remember the name of, seemed to know about Goku and even inquired further about him.

As strange as it was, that was something that Goku could work with. He felt the same way when he met new people. Being able to test his strength against them, and seeing them grow into something more, something better, being able to watch as they become a better person…he liked that a lot. It was how he befriended almost everyone back home, and it felt familiar, comfortable. Of course, the so-called elites didn’t feel the same way, giving him the suspicious stink eye whenever he happened to run into one of them, but Goku never really interacted with them anyhow.

Over that period of time, Goku received two messages on his scouter: one was accompanied with a voice message—a note to report to his new superior, a man by the name of Onion, at 1023 on Buvar 32nd —and the other was from Raditz. But he had no idea what it said, much less how to respond back to him, so he opted to wait until he could get a chance to ask him about it. Maybe Raditz was finally free enough to spar with him! Goku’s tail curled and twitched behind him as he thought about it, but then it wilted a bit when he thought about how long he would have to wait. He had no idea about Raditz’s schedule or how long his shift was or anything—he could be waiting for days, _days_! What if he had that home security job all the time? When would he be able to meet up with him? And he still had to ask about that weird language they used too. But mulling over it wasn’t going to solve anything. It was better if he just dived right on in and figured it out along the way.

Tomorrow it was, then.

On the uncomfortably small and unyielding cot that he quickly grew a distaste for, he rolled around restlessly, much to his roommate’s exasperation and growing amusement, until Goku finally whined and told his roommate that he wanted to see someone and couldn’t sit in one place for too long. She laid on her side, propping her cheek with her fist as she stared at him.

“We have all the time in the world,” she finally said dryly. “All of us get at least one common hour outside of our scheduled two hour lunch break, so I’m sure you’ll see whoever it is sometime soon. Try to take it easy.”

But he still couldn’t stop thinking about it even after an hour had passed, and she sighed. Rolling out of bed, she shuffled to a cabinet on her side of the room, digging through her top shelf until she found what she was looking for. She tossed a small grey box to Goku, and he caught it soundly.

“Take one of those. It’s DOXY, made out of Cornelius petals and synthesized xylamine. I use it when I can’t fall asleep sometimes,” she explained as he studied it, turning the box over and shaking the contents inside. “It’s not dangerous, if that’s what you’re thinking. Just don’t take more than one per day. It’s really potent.”

“Hmm…” Trusting her, Goku opened the package and dug his fingers into one of the aluminum coverings, popped a green pill into his mouth, and chewed slowly. He grimaced at the taste. He didn’t know what flavor this DOXY thing would have, but he wasn’t expecting this. It tasted like mud, plastic, and peppermint with a strawberry and pickle-like aftertaste.

He stuck out his tongue. “Bleh. This is _disgusting_.”

“You’re not supposed to chew it,” she snickered, and she laid back in her cot, exposing her back to him. “Keep the box. I’ll take it back when I need it.”

He nodded, placing his head down. He didn’t even remember when he fell asleep.

The next morning came, and when Goku had stretched and jumped to his feet, his roommate was already gone, her bed sheets neatened and her single pillow wrapped in a thin tan cloth and placed on the floor, tucked right under it. Attached to the side of her cabinet was a dozen sticky notes with arrows, all pointing to the sheet of paper stuck in the middle. _For Goku_, it said, and Goku ripped the paper off and scrutinized it. It was an official map of the palace, depicting almost every room there was with the exception of Vegeta’s room and the King’s room. There was a messily drawn stick figure on one part of the map with completely illegible words that were crossed out and replaced with “Goku,” and another arrow pointing to the stick figure’s head. She made it simple for him, writing the word “Lunch” in bold letters where the Mess Hall was, and “Job” where a long, empty space was. It looked so incredibly simple that it was probably made to be idiot-proof.

Too bad Goku never used a map before in his life.

Back when was a child, it was always Bulma who guided them around. When she didn’t have the dragon radar, she had an old map of Dr. Briefs. And because she was used to looking at strange things like those overly complicated designs of her machines, maps came relatively easy to her. Goku didn’t have an interest in stuff like that anyways, so it never bothered him before. He always used ki signals to figure out where he was. What was the point of learning how to use a map if he could just fly or teleport to where a person was? It seemed kind of redundant.

He shrugged, pocketing the map regardless as he searched for Raditz’s ki. In seconds, Goku locked onto his energy, and after grabbing his scouter on his inexpensive desk, he teleported to him, finding himself along a dark corridor with pacing guards. From the looks of their uniforms, they were most likely first class Saiyans. Standing behind a pillar was Raditz, his eyes darting around as if he were hiding something.

Disregarding Raditz’s furtiveness, he called him out.

“What are you doing all the way out here, Raditz?”

Almost immediately, Raditz froze, and his ki spiked. He was panicked for a second, but he calmed down moments later, surveying his area. He probably didn’t see anything out of the ordinary except for a few guards that were searching their area in an attempt to find the noise. And then he came into contact with Goku, and his eyes narrowed viciously. Without warning, he ran from his spot and pulled Goku’s arm harshly, dragging him behind the pillar.

“What do you think you’re trying to pull,” he seethed, glaring at Goku. “Are you trying to get us in trouble?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Goku apologized, but it didn’t sound the least bit sincere. He wasn’t, not really; he was more interested in what Raditz was doing. He looked like he was ready to rob a treasure chest or something. “I just wanted to get your attention.”

“Well, you got it, and if you weren’t careful, you would have got a whole lot more attention than just me.” He poked his head from behind the pillar again, watching the guards anxiously as they passed the two of them, and he breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. They’re gone.”

“What are you doing all the way out here anyways?”

“No, you first. How’d you even find me? This isn’t anywhere near the Mess Hall.” Raditz glanced back at the newly tightened security, and he huffed. “I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. We might as well go back. Come on, let’s go.”

“We’re leaving now?”

“Yeah, because _someone _ruined it for me. And I was so close too,” he muttered. He checked the halls once more before hovering a little bit off of the floor, just enough that he wouldn’t be heard when he moved around, gesturing for Goku to do the same. Following his lead, Goku flew slightly above ground like his brother did, and they weaved and bobbed through hallways until they reached the third class quarters again. Raditz whirled around on him, impatient.

“So? What’s up?”

“Sorry about before,” Goku said, feeling a tad bit guilty now that he put his brother in a sour mood, “But you sent me a message on your scouter. Remember?”

“Oh. Of course I remember,” he replied, slightly affronted. His sour mood dissipated in seconds, replaced by a puzzled intrigue. “But we were going to hang out at 1300, during my break. It’s only 835 right now.”

“Oops. I didn’t know that.”

“You didn’t know? But I sent it in my message.”

Goku rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “About that...I kind of can’t read it.”

“You _can’t read it_?” Raditz’s outburst caught the attention of the few passersby around him, and he dipped his head, lowering his voice. “What do you mean you can’t read it? It’s our mother language. Every Saiyan is taught how to read and write from the hatch.”

“I dunno, I guess I was never taught,” Goku shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Nuh uh, it’s a huge deal. How are you going to use the scouter if you can’t read? Or understand mission objectives? Or re-assignment results? Or join any of the ceremonies?” Raditz scrunched his nose, disapproving. “Didn’t your grandfather teach you how to read and write in Saiya?”

“No, he’s not a Saiyan.”

“Not a—how does that make any sense...?” He shook his head, apparently disregarding that train of thought. A second later, realization dawned his eyes. “Hold on. Did you look for me so I could translate it for you?”

“Kinda?” Goku laughed guiltily. He _had_ come with that intention in mind, right after sparring. He kind of took his brother’s kindness for granted and assumed that he would help him out. He was just so excited to see and fight against his brother again—this time under amiable circumstances—that he hadn’t even thought Raditz would reject him. “Sorry. But I didn’t know who else to ask.”

“You…” Raditz’s tail whipped sharply behind him, curling into itself before it relaxed. “You’re even more helpless than I thought. Fine, I’ll help you. But I’m not doing it for free. You’re going to show me how to sneak around like that. My scouter didn’t even pick you up.” He tapped a few buttons on the side of his scouter for a second before he jerked his head to the side, an indication for Goku to follow him. Was that going to be a new thing between them?

He had to admit that it was kind of amusing. It was almost as if Raditz really had become his older brother with how easy he was willing to take Goku under his wing despite not knowing anything about him.

Yeah, he really liked his brother a lot.

* * *

“So? What did you bring this brat to me for?”

Goku stood next to a fidgeting Raditz, his tail occasionally twitching before falling on the floor, limp. His older brother had taken the two of them outside of the palace and straight into the wilderness. None of the guards seemed to pay them any mind—rather, they had an eye out for Goku until they saw that he was accompanied by Raditz, and then their interest flaked away—and they not too soon passed by a bunch of trees until they reached a small school of soldiers, jostling each other with half-drunken kegs and armor-covered elbows, loitering in front of a handful of sturdy huts. Raditz had ignored all of them though, flying straight to the farthest hut and opening up the door that led to a warm and inviting dining room. He marched right to the back and up the stairs to the farthest room in the house. There sat a man in a wooden chair who, if Goku had been in his original size, would have been the exact duplicate of him, minus the scar on his cheek and his sharp, piercing eyes.

This man was probably his father, right?

“I told you about him dad, he’s that guy from before. The one everyone’s been talking about.”

He grunted, his eyes falling on Goku’s for a moment. Something similar to amusement lit up in them, but it died just as quickly as it came. His eyes lowered to the gauntlet on his lap, and he proceeded to clean the blood from its crevices with a white cloth, seemingly disinterested. If Goku were a bit more sensitive, he probably would have been a little offended by how he was almost disregarded like that.

“And?”

“And…he doesn’t know our language.”

“I don’t babysit, Raditz,” he said, waving his free hand dismissively. “Bring him to your mother if you want.”

“But…”

At this point, Raditz became disheartened, his tail drooping and curling in the inner part of his ankle, and Goku stepped forward a bit, feeling a little peculiar. It wasn’t exactly uneasiness, but he felt the urge to do something, even though he didn’t know what. He felt his tail stretching, doing something behind his back, and although he didn’t know what happened, Raditz perked up next to him, which meant that he probably did something right. The feeling in his chest went away and satisfied, Goku walked up to him, standing on his tippy-toes to get a better look at the gauntlet. The leather was worn, but it was in good shape. It faintly reminded him of the ones Vegeta wore back in his time.

He hummed. “Is that glove really so interesting?”

Immediately, the man’s eyes snapped to his, and Goku smiled genially. He had a feeling that this man—Bardock—probably wasn’t as bad as he seemed. Almost everyone in their quarters had nothing but good to say about him. They only had to take one glimpse of Goku before they started talking about him, revering him and hailing him as a leader, a true warrior. If he was liked by so many people, if his opinion mattered so much to Raditz, then he had to be a good person. And if this was the same Bardock that Frieza once mentioned in passing, well. He was more than just a good person. He really was a true warrior, even if he hadn’t lived to tell the tale. Goku probably just needed time to get a feel for him, just like he got a feel for his brother. He couldn’t quite think of Bardock as his father—this was the first time that Goku met him, after all—but he could come to like him. Maybe they could even be friends.

“You’re finally paying attention to me,” Goku said. “It’s kinda rude to ignore someone you just met, you know?”

“I never claimed to be polite,” he retorted brusquely, but he smirked, properly meeting Goku’s eyes, amusement rekindling his gaze. “You’ve got some bite to you. Should have figured as much if you’re with my son. Give me a name.”

“Goku. Son Goku,” he answered, and he held out his hand. Bardock ignored it, and after a few seconds, Goku lowered it. Well. He had said that he wasn’t the most polite person in the world. It was better than smacking his hand away at least.

Instead, Bardock looked back at Raditz, who was bouncing on the balls of his feet, impatient and eager. His smirk tightened, growing sharper.

“So you’ve got time to pick up strays, but you don’t have time to do your work? Don’t think I haven’t heard from your supervisor,” he commented, and Raditz froze. “Seventy-five percent attendance of daily patrol, and twenty-five percent of complete absences.”

“T-that has nothing to do with this,” Raditz grumbled, staring at the floor. “Besides, nothing ever happens here anyways. All of the action is on the away missions. Like the ones you do.”

“It has everything to do with this. What you do here is exactly what you’ll do if you’re sent away for recon.” He pointedly stared at Raditz, and he shifted uncomfortably, his tail curling around his ankle again. “And I thought I already told you that my job isn’t nearly as exciting as you think it is.”

“Yeah, well of course it’s not exciting for _you_, but I’ve been looking forward to it since forever. I don’t want to do this stupid security job anymore.”

“Tough. What you want is irrelevant.” Raditz sulked even harder, and Bardock sighed, placing his gauntlet on the sturdy wooden table in front of him, right next to the other one. He reached for his scouter on the far corner of the table and the pale, peeling wall, snapping it into place on his face before he turned towards Goku, pressing a few buttons.

“1000, huh. Not bad for a kid, but still weak,” Bardock muttered, switching it back off. He glanced at Raditz, who was kicking the carpet sullenly, and back at Goku, who peered up at him. Goku could tell that he was going to give in when he tsked. “You’re too damn spoiled, Raditz. Fine, as long as I don’t hear any more complaints from your supervisor until Buvar Baira, I’ll do something about him.”

Almost as if he was never scolded in the first place, Raditz brightened, beaming excitedly at his father. He ran forward and glomped his father, and Bardock stiffly patted him on the back, clearly unused to the intimacy. 

“Awesome! Then will you train us too?”

“So that’s what you really wanted. Don’t push your luck,” he said flatly, but he hadn’t said no, and Raditz grinned even wider. He gave a thumbs up to Goku behind Bardock’s head, and Goku grinned back.

“Let’s start today!”

“No. You have to make your rounds.”

“Then on my break. You’ll still be here, right?”

“Probably.”

“Probably?”

He grunted, unwilling to say anything else, and relenting, Raditz jumped off of his back, giving him another uncomfortably tight squeeze before he flew back to Goku.

“Dad and mom know a whole lot about our language, so they can teach you anything you need to know,” he whispered, bending down to Goku’s ear. He rose his voice as he continued, his tail swerving behind him excitedly. “But even better than that—dad’s super good at fighting. He was one of the only survivors in that war twoscore cycles ago. Right?”

“As if I need another reminder,” Bardock snorted, and Goku met his gaze, interested. He heard about that before; he didn’t know that his father was involved, but Raditz mentioned something about a war that happened a while ago when they had first met. Something about the Saiyans not being able to fight otherwise. Was this what Goku was supposed to be there for? Was this what he was supposed to have protected them from?

“The war?”

“_The Great Collapse_. A pompous name for what amounts to be the presumed extinction of the Saiyan race,” Bardock clarified. “The only reason why King Vegeta decided to expand his territory and partner with the other surrounding planets. He didn’t want to repeat his father’s mistakes.” He leaned back, resting his elbow on the table and propped his cheek on his knuckles, bored and clearly done with the conversation.

“I’m not using my free time to give you a history lesson. If you want to know about it, ask someone else. Raditz, I’m not giving you a lift back to the castle, so you’d better get prepared.”

“Aw, but dad…”

“You’re not going to ever become stronger that way. As it is, your power level’s pathetic. You’d be nothing but a hindrance to your teammates in the future.”

“That was kind of mean,” Goku interjected, frowning as Raditz jerkily nodded and silently exited the room, leaving the door wide open. “I think Raditz would be really useful in battle. Sometimes you don’t need raw strength to defeat someone. You just need a surprise.”

“Cute, but that won’t work in every battle,” Bardock retorted back just as quickly. “The first time you try it that might work. But it won’t work against organized militias, and it definitely won’t work against veterans. You’d end up losing a lot more battles than you’d end up winning.” He smirked condescendingly, leaning down to Goku’s level. “You obviously haven’t fought in live combat before. Don’t feel bad; most of the Saiyans on this planet haven’t either.”

Pouting, Goku replied, “That’s not true. I _have_ fought in battles before.”

“Oh really? So what is it that you do?”

“I dunno, but I’ll find out today. I have to go to some guy named Onion, and—”

“So homeland security then,” Bardock cut in. “Like everyone else. And if you’re reporting to Onion, then you’re third class. Probably because of that little stunt you pulled. They don’t trust you enough to place you into middle class, much less the elite. Even more than weaklings, they can’t stand questionable folk.”

“How long will it take for them to trust me?”

“Who knows.” Bardock leaned back, pressing a few more buttons on his scouter before he gathered his two gauntlets, tucked them under his armpit, and stood to his feet. Goku frowned even harder, on the verge of sulking himself. He had come all this way for a reason, and he only had one chance at this. When he returned back to Earth, the only thing that would be waiting for him was the afterlife and perhaps a very long lecture from King Kai and the other gods. But to hear that there could potentially never be a chance for them to trust him…how could Goku help out the Saiyans—how could he even brace himself for the worst—when he didn’t even know if or when a threat would come?

“But I _want_ to protect this place. That’s what I came to this planet for.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but we don’t need your help. This planet is perfectly sustainable with the resources it has.” Bardock placed his free hand on Goku’s head. “And if there ever comes a time where these people do need help, that’s when I’ll probably come in. Those trashy bastards on the top are too afraid to do anything on the battlefield unless I’m holding their hand.” He snorted disdainfully, shaking his head.

“Either way, you’re forty years too late to be a hero.”

* * *

Despite Goku’s burning questions, Bardock had lost the remainder of his patience, kicking him out of his room and back downstairs to where Raditz was securing on the final touches of his battle suit. He only glanced up at Goku once, still a bit stung from his father’s words, but when Goku volunteered to drop him off, telling him that he could teleport him to his post, Raditz perked right back up, intrigued and excited.

“You can teleport?”

“It’s called Instant Transmission,” Goku said. “That’s how I found you before.”

“Oh, so _that’s_ what you did. You have to show me how to do that too,” he said, grinning. “We could get into anywhere with that. We’d be unstoppable.”

He laughed, amused. “Maybe.”

Goku held out his hand, and Raditz grabbed his wrist. Noticing his refusal to hold his hand, he smiled to himself. He had a feeling that Raditz wouldn’t hold anyone’s hand, not if didn’t have to. If he respected Bardock so much, then he probably wouldn’t want to be seen as weak in front of him. That had to have been some sort of weird Saiyan trait that they all shared.

Concentrating, Goku placed two fingers to his head, thinking of a good place to teleport them back to. But at the very last minute, Bardock grabbed him by the scruff of his neck.

“I don’t like breaking promises,” he began, his eyes flickering to his son for a moment, “so drop by some time later today. Let me see what you’re made of. As for learning Saiya, find Gine, my wife. She’ll be willing to help you.”

“Okay.” Goku tilted his head up towards him, staring into his fierce eyes. “You really are a nice person, aren’t you.”

“That’s subjective. Now if you’re going to leave, then get.” He ruffled Raditz’s hair, ignoring Raditz’s attempts to fend his hand away, and then he turned right back around, fastening his gauntlets in place, cracking his neck from side to side. Goku looked at Bardock’s retreating back for a second longer before he pinpointed that long corridor that his roommate had labeled “Job,” and he teleported the two of them there.

Raditz had released Goku immediately upon their arrival, shouting “See you later!” once he spotted his supervisor, and Goku wandered around, looking for his own supervisor. Even though the hallway was filled to the brim with third-class and mid-class Saiyans and foreigners alike, Goku managed to find his supervisor relatively easily. He took Bardock’s words to heart, but he thought that maybe he would be able to make friends with them too; if he did, then maybe they would trust him enough that he could help them out. The other third-class Saiyans seemed to like him enough; maybe he could even become sparring buddies with his colleagues too.

At 1015, Goku was officially registered as a homeland security guard.

At 1020, Goku was given his quadrant to defend.

And at 1030, Goku was alone in the middle of nowhere, protecting absolutely nothing.

This really wasn’t what he had in mind at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought that maybe getting rid of the other A/N would get rid of chapter 1's A/N that kept popping up...seems like it's still there, on this chapter. Yay.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goku becomes impulsive and lands himself in a little trouble.

Two weeks had passed by, and Goku was _restless_.

Yes, he was able to spar with his brother—who was actually not that bad for his age; he wasn’t Gohan, Goten, or Pan, but he could definitely hold his own if he kept up his training, and Goku eagerly looked forward to that moment—and when Bardock was good and ready to train him, he did, and he proved to be a challenge, forcing Goku to keep unconsciously increasing his ki to counteract his attacks, and Gine, his mother, was a really nice lady who made a lot of food that reminded him too much of Chichi, but he was so restless. He wasn’t doing anything that he wouldn’t normally do on Earth, but it felt so restricting for some reason. Wake up, eat, train with a bunch of formulaic robots that he decimates with one blow, and then guard a bunch of trees that flapped limply in the wind. There weren’t even any animals to watch, just nothing but him and the lumbering clouds. If this is what all of the third-class Saiyans did all day and night, then no wonder Raditz was so determined to leave; he would too if he had to do this for the rest of his life.

But even more than boredom, Goku couldn’t continue doing this because it wasn’t his objective. He hadn’t come into this planet to waste time looking at nature; he had travelled back in time to protect them from—

Right, Frieza wasn’t here. And whatever calamity fell on Planet Vegeta was already over. They had already pulled themselves by their bootstraps and moved along. Ten thousand Saiyans reduced to a piddly hundred, increased to five hundred by the time forty years passed. Not only that but they gained help from others to stabilize themselves. Vegeta had once told Goku that his father would have died than ever receive help from another planet. It was beneath a Saiyan to ever rely on another, he said, but here they were. Five hundred foreigners and counting, all working to make Planet Vegeta the strongest kingdom there was. On that front, Goku wasn’t needed here.

On another, he still hasn’t seen Vegeta himself once besides that initial time when he first arrived on this planet. And that time wasn’t even meaningful: he said hi, Vegeta sort of got angry at him, and then the elite guards escorted him away, never to be seen again. Then he was swept along, somehow added in the army along with everyone else, became friends with Raditz, and then was assigned as the only guard for the Tenth Quadrant.

Which is where he was now.

There was one time Goku had tried exercising at full strength after three hours of being fidgety and antsy, but he had almost gotten in trouble really, really badly. From what he heard from the gossiping guards, everyone apparently got a reading of over ten million on their scouters before all of them exploded at the same time. It was a huge ordeal; even King Vegeta heard of it, and although he was sure that it was probably a malfunction of the scouters, he didn’t want to leave anything to chance. He ordered an emergency search of the entire planet, and everyone was reevaluated, including Goku himself.

When they tracked down the phantom reading to Goku’s area, their hackles immediately went up, and they immediately called Bardock and the other soldiers for backup. Bardock hadn’t followed their example, but he hadn’t said anything either. He just had that amused twinkle in his eye and that twitching smirk like he sometimes had, as if he were enjoying a private joke with himself, and then he waved the whole thing off. But if he hadn’t pulled the guards back, Goku probably would have found himself in a very uncomfortable predicament. It wasn’t that he liked hiding the truth from them, but…they’d never trust him if they knew how strong he was, this he was sure of. And at that time, he had absolutely wanted their trust with hopes that sometime really soon the situation would turn around and they’d be just as earnest with him as he was with them.

But at this point, Goku just wanted to _do_ something. He couldn’t work out properly; he really couldn’t do anything without attracting the eye of a nasty sentry who wouldn’t hesitate to report Goku to his boss for so much as breathing too hard. And neither Bardock nor Raditz were available; Bardock and his crew weren’t on Planet Vegeta anymore, and Raditz had sternly warned Goku not to visit him on his shift anymore, so he couldn’t stay with those two even if he wanted to.

As Goku finished his two-thousand and ninety-seventh pushup, his mind wandered back to Vegeta again, Goku’s other reason for remaining on this planet. What was Vegeta doing right now? Was he still with those stuffy dignitaries, standing next to his father perched on his throne? Was he on one of those away-missions that Raditz always talked about? Was he training? Was he eating? And more importantly than any of those things, did he even remember Goku from the last time they met?

He jumped to his feet.

That’s it! He should just check on him again. It wasn’t as if Vegeta was going to come to him anytime soon; he was busy, so he probably wouldn’t have time to. And it would be the perfect time to get more acquainted with him. Two weeks had passed; Vegeta probably wasn’t mad at Goku anymore, right?

Goku paused just as he was about to teleport to Vegeta. After all, wasn’t the very reason why Vegeta had been so mad was because he encroached on his territory? Wasn’t he repeating his mistakes? But thinking about it further, Goku didn’t get it. Why had Vegeta been so infuriated in the first place? Even if he didn’t remember Goku, Goku invaded everyone’s space, and no one else seemed to mind, especially if he didn’t stick around for a long time or if he brought something to eat with him. Then again, that was back in his time, where his name was spread across the universe…

Oh well. He could figure it out later.

He sought out Vegeta’s ki again and found himself standing in a fairly fancy but relatively small and dimly lit room. It was elegantly Spartan: there wasn’t much there besides a small, rosewood desk that was adorned with a quill pen and neatly arranged papers next to a lofty stack of books, a round, plush ivory and cobalt chair with a red insignia on the back that floated in mid-air, two folding steel doors that most likely expanded to a large closet, and a queen-sized bed that had silk sheets draped overhead. There was another door that led to a bathroom that Goku couldn’t see without craning his head a bit further and still another room that was closed altogether.

“You!”

Ah, there he was.

Goku cocked his head at an angle, bending backwards to meet Vegeta’s furiously indignant expression. He reminded Goku so much of the Vegeta that he knew that a smile made its way onto his lips, and by the time he fully turned around to meet him, it quivered and broke way for a grin.

“Hey, Vegeta! You look well.”

“Don’t refer to me so casually, you third-class piece of trash,” he barked, stomping closer to Goku and hovering over him, jutting his chin out. “Who do you think you are, trespassing into my private quarters like this? How did you get in here? Well?”

“I just followed your energy, same as last time,” Goku replied, holding his hands up, half-heartedly trying to mollify him. Vegeta was going to lose the remains of the little patience he had very quickly at the rate things were going. Which was fine for Goku, he wanted to cure his boredom after all, but if he was honest, this wasn’t exactly the way he wanted to do it. “Why are you so huffy, anyways? Is it ‘cause I came in without asking?”

Vegeta sneered. “What kind of foolish question is that? Of course I’m angry; this is the second time you’ve breached our security. And don’t think I’ve forgotten you so quickly, not when I’m the one who was gracious enough to spare you in the first place.”

Suddenly, his expression became carefully neutral, scrutinizing Goku’s face with an eagle’s precision. “You have resided on our planet for almost a third of a Buvarian phase; are you not aware that what you’re doing is a national offense?”

“It is? I didn’t know it was that bad. I didn’t mean to commit any crimes, I was just bored and wanted to see you, that’s all.”

“You were bored, so you wanted to see me,” Vegeta repeated flatly. “So you’ve committed a heinous crime for nothing more than petty entertainment. And even more shamefully, using me, the Prince of all Saiyans.”

Goku knew the very minute that his careless words failed him, and he quickly backpedaled. “Well, I didn’t mean it like that—”

“No, that’s _exactly _what you meant.” His halted breath and a minuscule pitch in his ki was the only warning Goku got that Vegeta was about to strike. “It seems as if I was incorrect in my judgement to be merciful. If you want entertainment, then I’ll give you what you rightfully deserve.”

His small fist whipped forward, aiming straight for Goku’s throat, and Goku easily parried it off to the side with a flat palm, stepping back once, just enough to put the same distance between them. For a moment, confusion flitted across Vegeta’s face before he tried again, sweeping in close with another fist, aiming a bit lower. But when that didn’t land either, he jumped back, placing twice the amount of distance between them. His expression became wary, but he composed himself well, hiding any traces of vulnerability.

“You dodge surprisingly well for a rodent.” Vegeta sniffed, relaxing his stance, and Goku smiled at his backhanded compliment. How typical of him. “But you have no right to be here. I don’t know what you’ve come for, but if you insist on staying, then I’ll call the guards.”

He probably shouldn’t do what he’s thinking of doing. Here Vegeta was giving him another chance to dodge the bullet—apparently, in the midst of doing everything wrong, the gods were still looking out for him, at least enough to get away with his mistakes twice—but he really didn’t want to go back to mindlessly watching a bunch of trees again. And Vegeta was the only reason why he was going to stay on this planet. Even though he hadn’t wanted to upset Vegeta this much, he was agitated already, so—

“I didn’t think you were so weak that you needed other people to protect you,” is what innocently slipped out, and Vegeta became as still as a stone. The very tip of tail twitched once, twice, and then he became enraged, his tail harshly smacking the ground behind him. Well, Goku had done it now, hadn’t he. If Vegeta was willing to cool his temper before, he definitely wasn’t going to do it now.

“How _dare_ you. I’m more than enough to squash a pathetic cockroach like you. To even insinuate that we’re anywhere near the same level is sickening,” he hissed, and he lashed out, grabbing a hold of the front of Goku’s gi, pulling him forward to a ball of energy in his other hand. But Goku saw it coming, and he snuffed it out with his palm, briefly covering Vegeta’s hand with his own. Gritting his teeth, Vegeta tried again, summoning a slightly larger amount of energy into his fist and condensing it, making it concentrated enough that had Goku really been as powerless as he made himself out to be, he would have definitely suffered near fatal wounds, but he wasn’t. He swallowed that up as easily as he did the last, and he was close enough to Vegeta’s face that he saw the moment when he realized that what Goku did wasn’t a coincidence.

Wrenching himself away, Vegeta fumbled for his scouter, fastening it to the side of his face as he floated in mid-air. He clicked it twice, waiting for the reading. He sucked in a sharp breath, ripped the scouter off of his face, and crushed it between his fingers.

“Ridiculous. These scouters are absolute rubbish. There’s no way your power level is only 1000, you’d certainly be dead if you were.”

“You think so? I think my power level is about 1000 right now.”

“And now you have the audacity to give me a bold-faced lie to my face,” Vegeta snarled, and he charged towards him, his eyes alert as he kicked Goku, combing his body for any openings. On a particularly fast punch, Goku’s scouter beeped once, an acknowledgement that there was a moderately-high threat in the area: Vegeta increased his power level to 20000. At this point, although it was better to block Vegeta’s attacks, Goku began to dodge them all, somehow making do without damaging anything. It took some gymnastics—he tripped over that floating chair at least twice, he bumped into Vegeta’s bed thrice, and if he flew past the chandelier once more time he was sure it was going to go crashing to the floor—but everything remained relatively stable.

“Look,” Goku said after Vegeta stopped attacking, fuming silently, “I didn’t come here to make you mad, honest. I just came here ‘cause I wanted to visit you. I figured that we could talk, get to know each other and stuff. I can do that much, can’t I?”

“And who gave you the right to decide, unilaterally, that you had permission to do that?” Vegeta’s tail curled around his waist, and stalked up to Goku, jabbing a gloved finger in his chest. “You don’t seem to understand your position. As long as you are in this kingdom, you are nothing more than a third-class Saiyan. You’re nothing more than a weakling who came crawling back here for some sort of semblance for your culture, and we were benevolent enough to let you in. You have no right to do anything.”

“But you haven’t been able to lay a single finger on me yet,” Goku retorted despite himself. He always had to say the worst things at the worst times. This definitely was one of those times, and he knew that what happened next wasn’t going to be any good. Well, it wasn’t as if it could get much worse than it already has. He shrugged. “That’s gotta count for something.”

Vegeta narrowed his eyes, and without even blinking, he attempted to shoot a ki blast right into Goku’s chest. Immediately, Goku deflected it outside of his window. But it seems like that was what Vegeta was waiting for; he seemed to disappear for a moment, throwing Goku off for a second because he was sure that Vegeta never knew how to teleport before, and then at the very last minute, he felt Vegeta’s ki spike higher than before. Goku swiveled around, prepared to block it, but he came face to face with an incredibly large ball of energy. There was no way to avoid that without damaging the rest of the palace even if he had managed to injure Goku with that attack. Didn’t Vegeta realize that, or did he just not care anymore?

There was no time. Gambling on Vegeta’s strength, Goku repelled it backwards, and the large blast hurled towards him.

Vegeta blocked it just fine, but the extra force that Goku accidentally added took him off guard, and his back met with one of his walls with a loud _crack_. And while Vegeta was fine, shaking his head a few times, the wall behind him was not. There was a huge crater there, a testimony of Vegeta’s strength and Goku’s force. He was amazed, but he wasn’t surprised. Vegeta had always been strong from the start. But he didn’t have time to admire the sight; even before he heard their pattering feet, Goku sensed the dozens of guards that were barreling towards their area.

Before Goku could make a choice whether to leave Vegeta or not, they already marched to the front of Vegeta’s door. They knocked once, twice, three times, and when no answer was given, Goku still indecisive and Vegeta gaining his bearings, they stormed in.

In seconds, Goku found himself surrounded by a ring of swords, and he sighed, holding his hands up in capitulation.

He probably should have stayed in that boring forest after all.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta saves Goku from the frying pan and instead throws him headfirst into the fire. Like all things, Goku takes it in stride.
> 
> But others don't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back. I’m strangely flattered by you guys checking up on me every so often. So…thanks. Like I said before, I might take a while to update, but I’ll never abandon anything I start, no matter how I feel about it. I hope that reassures everyone a little bit. 
> 
> Now, let’s reboot, shall we?

Goku was fully prepared to be taken away and interrogated for another five hours, maybe even thrown into that damp and dreary cellar he passed by near the infirmary. It _was_ his fault after all; he pushed Vegeta too far and got him all puffy, so he was willing to face the consequences, whatever that was. So he was surprised when Vegeta stopped them with a single word.

“Halt.”

The guards remained still, the tips of their sword lightly scratching Goku’s neck, waiting for his next command. Silently, Vegeta casually strolled up to them, surveying each and every Saiyan. Their faces reflected the confidence of a job well done, protecting their prince from an obvious intruder and undeniable threat, but Goku had a sinking feeling that something terrible was about to happen to _them_. Because despite how calm Vegeta looked, his ki fluctuated wildly. It soared too high, and then dipped too low, and that just wasn’t normal. Even when Goku was sparring with him, his ki gradually rose, but not like this. Not like a predator about to pounce on its prey.

Vegeta stopped, peering up at a young guard.

“You. Who told you to enter into my quarters?”

The guard quickly became pale and sputtered, his lip trembling.

“W-what? But Prince Vegeta, this ruffian just—”

“I didn’t ask you that. Did I specifically command you to enter? Did I ever ask for your help? Did I indicate even _once_ that this matter was something I couldn’t handle by myself?”

“…N-no, sir.”

“Good.” And then he fired a ki blast so strong that the guard’s back smacked against the wall across from Vegeta’s room. He didn’t even make it outside before he was unconscious and probably on the brink of death, but Vegeta hadn’t even looked at him twice. He was staring at the other men just as expressionlessly as before. They backed away once, lowering their swords, their eyes pleading, and Goku felt nothing short of remorse for them. That poor guy hadn’t done anything wrong, and neither had they. But Goku knew exactly why he was doing this: his pride. For Vegeta, there was nothing greater than his pride. And by his guards assisting him—even though it was their job, even though it was their sworn duty—it indicated that he was too weak to protect himself. For that, Vegeta would continue until he was satisfied.

As if confirming it, Vegeta said, “Let this be a lesson to all of you. Fail me again, and you can consider yourselves dead.”

He took them out with ki blasts, but unlike with the first guy, he fired again and again until their uniforms were torn and burnt and they coughed up blood, begging for mercy. It was uncharacteristically cruel, and unable to tolerate any more, Goku teleported to Vegeta and tightly clamped his hands on top of his, stopping another shot right in the nick of time.

“Come on Vegeta, don’t take your anger out on them,” he lightly reproved. “Take it out on me. I’m the one you’re mad at, right?”

“Even now you insist on making sport of me, you filthy rogue,” Vegeta hissed, wrenching his hands away. He was about to lash out again, but something caught his eye and he stopped. Following his gaze, Goku saw a fresh group of guards standing there. They stared at Goku, and then at their fallen comrades, and then at Vegeta, unwilling to step in but ready to fight once Vegeta gave them the signal.

Vegeta breathed, slowly gaining back the rest of his composure. Goku took that as a good sign. Maybe now he could try apologizing before things get out of hand again. Maybe he could smooth things over a little.

“Listen, Vegeta—”

“You obviously still don’t know your place,” Vegeta interrupted crisply, and the men at the door straightened. “How about I teach you?”

Vegeta nodded to the guards, and two of the closest ones stepped in, one of them standing in back of Vegeta, the other standing in back of Goku.

“On this day, Buvar 42nd, I, Vegeta IV, Prince of all Saiyans, formally challenge you to a Jiurabo. These two will serve as our witnesses. Do you accept?”

Goku paused. He hadn’t heard of a ‘Jiurabo’ before. And the way that Vegeta was glaring at him…was it some sort of battle? Was Vegeta challenging him to a duel?

“Well? Do you? Nothing else is required other than a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer. However, keep this in mind: should you decline now, you lose by default, so I would suggest you choose your words carefully.”

Whatever it was, Goku wasn’t going to lie down and take defeat just like that.

“I’ll do it,” Goku answered, determined, and Vegeta’s lips twisted into a feral smirk.

“Wonderful. Then I’ll give you three days to prepare yourself for your loss. You will receive word about the rest of the conditions on the day of. Guards, escort this person back to their Common Area.”

Two other men grabbed each of Goku’s arms and lifted him up far above the ground—an even higher position than he was in the first time—but he still managed to wriggle out of their grasp to turn back to Vegeta.

“Wait. I’m really sorry, Vegeta,” Goku called out. “I know you’re really mad at me right now, but believe me when I say I didn’t mean to offend you. I just wanted us to get to know each other.” It was just when he was out the door that he managed to squeeze out, “After this Jiu-whatever-it’s-called, let’s spar again. It was a lot of fun, even though we messed up your room.”

Vegeta hadn’t even looked back at him, but Goku was fine with that. After all, he would see him in three more days, and when he won, maybe Vegeta would finally take him seriously. Oh, but on second thought, he probably wouldn’t. Vegeta didn’t take failure too well. If anything, his defeat would serve as fuel for him to dislike Goku more than he already did, and he would try to crush Goku using everything at his disposal until there was nothing left. Which was impossible, but they didn’t know that.

Right, they _didn’t_ know that. And just by Goku winning, they would realize that he’s been hiding himself from them all this time. Any goodwill he made with his new friends would evaporate as soon as they saw how strong he was. The third-class Saiyans would feel outmatched; the first-class Saiyans would feel threatened. There wouldn’t be anyone that would give him an eager ear anymore.

Suddenly, agreeing to this ‘Jiurabo’ thing didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore.

* * *

But there wasn’t any use crying over spilt milk. What was done was done, and Goku couldn’t—wouldn’t—change a thing. What he had to do now was find someone who could give him some more insight on Jiurabo. What was it? How did it work? He knew Vegeta would tell him the day of, but if it was too overwhelming, Goku didn’t trust himself not to flub it up somehow. He needed a reliable person, someone he could trust to set things straight.

And what perfect timing! Here was someone storming up to him right now.

Goku waved as Raditz drew closer in the midst of the bustling guards, but Raditz hadn’t said a word. When he reached the center of the Mess Hall, he grabbed Goku by the arm and yanked him out and away, past all the astonished faces and pitying glances, and right in front of his room. His tail whipped around impatiently as he entered in his security code and waited for it to unlock. When the door slid open, Raditz pushed him inside. The thick fog of darkness aided Goku’s fall, and he painfully landed on his tailbone.

“What was that for?”

Raditz hadn’t moved from the entrance at all. His tail continued to lash back and forth before it stilled, curling around his waist. After a long pause, he turned his back to Goku, his foot tapping an uneven rhythm before abruptly ceasing.

“…you’re a bigger idiot than I thought.”

“Hey—”

“You’re the talk of the hub,” Raditz continued, as if Goku hadn’t spoke at all. “And not in a good way, either. Do you even know what you’ve gotten yourself into?”

“Well…I sorta wanted to find you to help me figure that out,” Goku replied sheepishly, and Raditz huffed.

“Of course. I should have figured.” He gestured to his cot on the far corner of his barren room, right next to a high window that revealed one of three dwindling moons on Planet Vegeta. “Sit up there.”

Obeying, Goku felt his way through, found his cot, climbed up, and crossed his legs, waiting for Raditz to join him. After another exasperated huff, he did, bringing along a hard box that almost made tears roll from Goku’s eyes because that _hurt_, and then he gave him a peace offering: the Tree of Might lookalikes that Goku had spotted when he first came to Planet Vegeta. Goku wasn’t really mad at Raditz for hitting him, but if he was going to offer food like that, who was he to decline?

As he greedily gorged down the first and second fruit, Raditz said, “I knew you were ballsy, but what you did was pretty suicidal. Sneaking into Prince Vegeta’s quarters? Awesome. Getting caught and picking a fight? Not cool.”

“But I wanted to see him,” Goku retorted. “It’s no fun if he’s not there.”

“And now you’re going to die,” Raditz snapped.

“I am?”

“_Yes_—oh, fine, I’ll give you a crash course on our history. You listening?” Goku nodded. “Good. So back when this stupid hierarchy was made by the first King, there was a lot of mutiny. From what I heard, before the war twoscore cycles ago, all of the previous Kings were super big on power and heritage. A lot of us third-class didn’t like that, so we used to stage ambushes when we thought the elites were most vulnerable.”

“But I thought Saiyans love to fight,” Goku interjected.

“That’s different. We like to fight, but we hate to be humiliated. We’re a warrior race, and for anyone else to treat us as anything less is a blow to our pride. And for those snobby elites, it was a stain on their pride for us to challenge them. So Jiurabo was created to keep us third-class Saiyans in line.”

Well, that made sense. Vegeta always did have a thing for telling Goku what to do…

He hummed. “So Vegeta wants to control me?”

“No, that’s not it. Stop interrupting me,” Raditz hissed. “I was _going _to say that Jiurabo itself doesn’t bring order; the results do. So a person challenges another person, and if there are two or more witnesses, the challenge is validated. Then everyone has to watch the match, and after the challenger wins, they have the right to demand anything of the loser, even if it’s their life. _That’s_ what keeps everyone in line.”

“I don’t get it,” Goku said, and then he winced. Raditz was getting irritated very quickly, and it was in no small part due to him. “I kinda get why Vegeta would be mad enough to kill me. But no one’s ever defeated a challenger before?”

Raditz snorted. “Are you kidding? Of course not. Jiurabo is usually given out by elites and the upper-second class. No one’s ever heard of a third-class issuing Jiurabo because there aren’t any that can actually beat elites. That’s the whole purpose of this stupid class system: there won’t ever be surprises. The only person to have ever broken that record is my dad. Someone challenged him to a Jiurabo when I was three cycles old, and—I still remember how strong he was. He turned the tables on that guy so easily. Man that was amazing…”

He thought hard for a while, and then he exclaimed, “Oh, I have an idea! How about we have Toma train you?”

“Toma?”

“Yeah! He’s the strongest third-class Saiyan around, next to my dad of course. If there’s anyone that would give you a chance at beating Prince Vegeta, it’s him. Toma was his personal bodyguard for a while, so he knows how he fights. And he’s super nice too; he let me join him in practice once. He didn’t go on a mission with dad this time, so he’s probably got some free time.” Raditz jumped to his feet, his tail swaying wildly behind him. “Well, what are you waiting for? Come on, let’s go.”

“Aren’t you going to get in trouble if you don’t do your job?”

“Who cares about that? If we don’t do anything, you’re going to get killed and I won’t allow that to happen without at least putting up a fight. Don’t forget you promised to teach me that technique you always do. Now come _on_.” He reached forward and tugged on Goku’s wrist. “We only have three days, so there’s no time to waste.”

There were many things Goku wanted to say to him, things that probably weren’t the wisest. But he was so touched. Here was his older brother, trying his best to protect Goku, who was, for all intents and purposes, nothing but a stranger that happened to fall right on his lap. If push came to shove, Raditz wouldn’t even be able to protect himself properly, but here he was, helping him, a man who couldn’t die.

In the past, he has never truly acknowledged Raditz as his older brother; he was family only in name. But at that moment, Goku felt something for him, something that rekindled the fluttery feelings he held for Pan, Gohan, Goten, and Chichi, the fluttery feelings that he came to know as love. And at that moment, he whole-heartedly welcomed every bit of it.

He warmly grinned at him.

“Yeah. Lead the way, Raditz.”

* * *

Toma was a tall and bulky soldier, with muscles bulging out of his uniform. He was the type of man who seemed imposing enough to tip-toe around, almost like General Rilldo. He bore lines and lines of fatigues and stress on his thick eyebrows, and tightened his stern lips. But like Raditz said, he really was a nice guy. As soon as they dropped down, Toma had swiveled around, his defense up and his bloodthirst high, only to relax when he saw the two of them.

“Your father’s not going to be too happy to know you’ve skipped out of your duties again,” he chided, and Raditz frowned.

“You won’t tell him, will you?”

“That depends.” His gaze was light on Goku’s, inquisitive and more than a little amused. “Are you here to hide from your superior again, or did you need something from me?”

Raditz pushed Goku forward and said, “This guy. Can you train him for three days? He was stupid enough to get challenged to a Jiurabo by Prince Vegeta, and he doesn’t stand a chance the way he is now.”

“Hmm…” Toma leaned forward, his gaze sharpening into something more calculating as he raked Goku’s figure. “But he doesn’t really need any more training…”

“Huh?”

“Well, let me see what he can do.” Toma smiled at him, extending his hand. “But I’d like to know who you are first. I’ll introduce myself. I’m Toma, a member of Commander Bardock’s task force.”

Goku took his hand. For being on the same team, this guy sure had more manners than Bardock did. “I’m Son Goku, nice to meet ya.”

Recognition lit Toma’s eyes. “So _you’re_ Goku. I’ve heard a lot about you. But for you to have received a challenge from the Prince, you must have made quite an impact on him. He’s not the type of child to become flustered like that.”

“I did?”

“You’re the first person he’s ever issued a Jiurabo to,” he said, as if that explained everything. And maybe to him, it did. But Vegeta was always trying to best himself against other enemies that he thought was a challenge. First Goku, then Frieza, then Cell, and finally Buu. So Goku wasn’t any different…

…but that was the Vegeta of his world. It felt like every time Goku tried to separate the Vegeta of this world with the one he knew, there would be that something that would make everything confusing again. But that was fine. He would have ample time to figure everyone on this planet, Vegeta included.

Toma released Goku’s hand and pressed his scouter, gauging his strength. He grunted.

“Your power level is 1000?”

“That’s what the scouters say,” Goku replied, and the amusement grew brighter in Toma’s eyes.

“Alright then. How about we warm up first? Before we do anything, I’d like to see where you’re at.”

Goku nodded, more than eager to fight again. He slipped off his weighted shoes, gingerly putting them on a patch of dry grass to prevent Raditz and Toma from catching on, but Toma’s eyes flickered to the side. He didn’t say anything, but his smile tightened. Once he settled into his fighting stance, he beckoned Goku with an upturned hand.

Grinning, Goku charged for him, and the two of them exchanged blows that felt familiar on Goku’s skin. There was something about Toma’s fighting style that reminded him of the old days of training with Uub, and his chest beat a little faster, a little harder. He aimed for Toma’s side, but Toma soundly blocked it, using the opportunity to aim for Goku’s exposed stomach. Goku bore it, using the moment to throw a battering of punches on his chest. Without even realizing it, he was letting himself go little by little—

“Woah! Your power level is almost 5000!”

—and that was the bucket of frigid water he needed to control himself again. He half-heartedly reminded himself to keep his energy down, but Toma had already came to his own conclusions. He held out a palm, and Goku obliged.

“Commander Bardock is returning with his soldiers tomorrow,” Toma said lightly. “I heard that you’ve been training with him for a while. It would be best if he took up your training instead.”

Raditz scowled. “Why? You said you’d help.”

“I said that I would see where he’s at. And at his current level, I can’t train him.”

“…oh.” Raditz’s scowl melted into a disgruntled frown. “But his power level was 4830. That’s good enough to at least try, isn’t it? Come on, please? Prince Vegeta’s power level is too high to wait another day for dad to come back.”

“I didn’t say that I wouldn’t help him. I only said I couldn’t train him,” Toma chuckled, rubbing Goku’s head. Peering down at him, he said, “I can give you some hints on the Prince’s fighting style. Power level isn’t everything on a one-on-one fight. And for Prince Vegeta, who is incredibly talented but still hasn’t honed his craft, it’s easy to find a gap or two. Are you willing to learn?”

There seemed to be more to that, a double entendre that Goku couldn’t hear. But with Toma’s gentle hand on his head and the mirth dancing in his eyes, he couldn’t see it at all. So he took him at his word, nodding enthusiastically, excitedly.

“Yeah. I want to know everything about him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, Toma will only have one other major/extended appearance much later down in the story, but here. 
> 
> Chapter seven and eight are actually meant to be together. So I'm going to be working on it for this weekend. My hope is that it'll be up in two to three weeks max, <strike>but please don't hold me to it.</strike>

**Author's Note:**

> If it's not apparent, this is based off of the last episode of GT. Hopefully everything makes sense.
> 
> Before you (may or may not) get invested, let me just say that if you're coming here for smut, you'll be waiting a long time. From the way it's currently scheduled, the earliest you'll see even a hint of it is around chapter 17 at best, so...maybe come back then?
> 
> Thanks for reading, folks.


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